


Habits Of My Heart

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Reader Insert, Series, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6098061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The path of true love is never smooth, and the path to happiness is even rougher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

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_August 2005_

Your mom had always told you one universal truth about being a hunter, and about life on the road.

_You grab happiness where you can find it and you hold onto those moments as fiercely as you can. Those moments are what keep you fighting, keep you hard against the things that go bump in the night. The moments are your strength._

It was something she always said, and it was one of the last things she said to you before she choked to death on her own blood, her insides ripped apart by a wendigo. It was the thought of her wish for you that kept you going until the beast was dead, and you were stumbling from the forest, seeking shelter in the old red Camero you'd once shared with her.

And that was where Dean Winchester found you, two days later, shivering and almost dead from hypothermia.

You'd met Dean before of course; his father had shared hunts with your mom, and you'd always suspected that they grabbed a few of those happy moments together. When Dean told you that his Dad was missing, you'd felt bad for him, but you hadn't been able to help.

It took a few weeks before you were healed and well enough to travel, but Dean was still reluctant to leave you at the remote cabin you'd “acquired”. He was supposed to be heading out to pick his brother up from Stanford, but he kept hanging back, worried about your recovery.

'Dean, I'm gonna be fine.' You muttered, putting the kettle on for a much-needed cup of coffee. 'Just go get Sam. Go find your dad.'

'I just worry. You were half dead when I found you.' His words were quiet, and he lingered a little too near to you, making your body shudder at his proximity. There was no denying that Dean Winchester was a hottie; he'd been cute as a teenager, but now that he was in the later half of his twenties, that gangly awkwardness was turning into chiselled muscle and angles that would make any woman, or man for that fact, drool.

You turned, facing him as the kettle gurgled on the counter. 'I'm alive now. You saved me, and I'm grateful, but I know that you have hunts, and your dad, and your brother. I know the life, remember?' The thought of your mom and the way she'd raised you, _her little Amazon_ , made your eyes sting with unshed tears. You hadn't had the chance to grieve yet, even though Dean had gone back to the wendigo lair, and brought her back for a hunter's funeral. Her ashes were in a small wooden box, ready for the trip to your father's grave in Ohio, where she'd be laid to rest with him.

Funny how your life echoed the Winchesters in so many ways.

Your dad had been killed by a vengeful spirit, one of his old colleagues looking for revenge on the people who caused the accident that killed him. After he'd gone, your mother, always the believer, had researched and found out what happened. You'd only been ten at the time, but after seeing your dad ripped to shreds, you weren't about to argue with your mother, and quite happily joined her on the crusade against monsters.

'I'll stay tonight and head out in the morning.' Dean huffed, reaching out to brush his fingers over the long jagged scar on your arm. It would heal, eventually, but for now it was pink and raised, still bearing marks from his careful stitching.

You smiled, pulling a second cup off of the shelf. 'Go sit down. I'll make coffee and we'll watch a film or something.' He returned the grin, heading over to the small couch in front of the television. He switched it on, flicking through the channels. 'Anything good?' You asked, making the coffee, hearing a disgusted snort from Dean.

'Not really.' You heard him scramble forward to the small collection of DVD's, the soft thwack of plastic echoing over the television as he picked through them. 'What about “Big Trouble In Little China”?' You turned, raising an eyebrow as he smirked at you. 'Come on, it's a classic.'

'Whatever you wanna watch.' You smiled, bringing over the finished drinks. He slipped the DVD in the player, taking his spot on the couch, accepting the coffee from you as you sat down beside him, curling your feet underneath your ass.

An hour later, two coffee cups lay empty on the floor, and you were laying across the couch with your head on Dean's thigh, his hand resting on your side, stroking you softly through the sweater you wore. The film was right at the bit with all the action, and you smiled as Dean's laughter rumbled through you.

'I do love this film.' He said, looking down at you, and you rolled your head to look up at him. 'You're barely even watching it.'

'Just enjoying the moment.' You whispered, your lips tugging upwards and he gave you a funny look at the phrase. You pulled yourself up, crossing your legs as you sat sideways on the couch, Dean's attention drawn to you from the film. 'Something my mom always said. “You grab happiness where you can find it and you hold onto those moments as fiercely as you can. Those moments are what keep you fighting, keep you hard against the things that go bump in the night. The moments are your strength.”.' You shrugged. 'I know it's stupid, but it's what she always stuck to.' Your eyes met his and you realised he was staring at you. 'What?'

'You're happy here? With me?'

You nodded, frowning. 'Well, yeah. You've taken care of me. More than I ever asked for. You watch crappy movies and just...being with you is easier than anything else.' He swallowed, his eyes looking moist, and you tilted your head to the side. 'Dean, I...I don't...aren't you?'

He answered your question by lunging across the space between you, pressing his lips against yours, his hands thrusting through your messy hair. You yelped in surprise, before relaxing into the kiss, unfolding your legs to allow him better access and to prevent too much discomfort.

'Yes.' He whispered against your mouth, not willing to stray too far. 'Yes, I'm happy here with you.' His smiled was clear through his voice, his breath warm on your skin. 'I know I have to leave but...can we...can we hold on for that moment?' You nodded, arching up into him, enjoying the feel of his mouth against yours, his hands smoothing over your sides to grab your ass and hold you even closer.

It wasn't your first time, no where near, and it wasn't Dean's either. But you took that night, together, savouring the moment and dragging it out. He treated you like spun glass one second, and an unbreakable force the next, and you felt every inch of his presence vibrating through you.

Daylight broke the next morning, and he slipped from the bed, your eyes on him the whole time.

'You've got my number right?' He asked, pulling his jeans on before crawling beside you once more, placing another soft kiss against your lips as you nodded. 'I gotta go. Long drive to California.'

'Text me when you get there?' Your voice was small as Dean moved off of the bed again, dragging his shirt over his head with a grimace.

'I will.'

You watched him leave through the bedroom window, the Impala leaving tracks in the snow. With the sheet wrapped around you, you pushed back the feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach, and clung to the happier moments, replaying the night in your mind.

_Hold on to that happiness_.

*****

_November 2007_

Decapitating vampires was quite possibly one of your favourite parts of the job. Especially when they'd been responsible for so many deaths. There were only four of them, but you'd gotten right down to it, throwing yourself into the brawl without hesitation.

When they were dead, you'd cleaned off your machete on one of their shirts, and burn the old building to the ground, wheel-spinning your Chevy as you careened away from town. You had another case to sniff out, but for now, you were intending on stopping by Bobby's and seeing how the old man was.

He'd been good to you and your mom when you'd first started out, and you worried about him being all on his own. There was absolutely no ulterior motive in knowing that Dean and Sam had been hanging out there a lot.

You kept tabs on him. It was sneaky, and it had been two years since you'd seen him, but you kept him in the back of your mind, pulling out those memories when you needed a reason, something resembling hope in a world that seemed intent on killing off the human race.

And apparently, Dean had though about you too.

Your phone started ringing about an hour out from Sioux Falls, and you picked it up quickly. 'Yeah?'

'Y/N?'

'Dean?'

'Hey.' He sounded like he was forcing a smile and you frowned. 'How's things?'

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. Just checking in. Wanted to see how you were.'

He was lying. 'I'm good. Just finished up a vamp hunt, heading over to see how Bobby is getting on, see if he's got any cases I can pick up.'

'You are?' His voice perked up, a little less fake. 'I'm there right now. It would be... _really_ good to see you.' Your frown deepened. He didn't sound good in the slightest and your foot pressed down on the accelerator in response to the pull in your gut. 'How long are you gonna be?'

'I'm about an hour away. But I can break a few speed limits.'

'Don't kill yourself.' He joked, but there was something deeper behind those words. 'See you soon, Y/N.'

The phone clicked off and you tossed it into the front seat, placing both hands on the wheel and speeding the last eighty miles to Bobby's. As you pulled into the yard, Dean was sat out front on the hood of the Impala, waiting for you. Your lights shone over him and he smiled brightly, coming to meet you at your door as you turned off the engine.

'Dean.' Your voice was a breathy whisper as you climbed from the vehicle, and his arms wrapped around you. 'You look good.'

'You're a sight for sore eyes.' He muttered against your hair, pulling your chin up to place a kiss on your lips. 'Been thinking about you a lot lately.'

'I'm sorry it's been so long.' You replied, holding him close. 'I guess, with everything -'

He cut you off, his second kiss almost desperate. 'Yeah, I know.'

'I'm sorry about your dad.' You whispered, knowing it would have hurt him a lot. But you'd been there, you were an orphan yourself. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm good.' He was still lying. 'Just...kept thinking about what you said to me. That night. About...seizing happiness.'

You smirked. 'That the only reason you called, Dean Winchester? You need to get your leg over?' He shook his head, looking a little angry at the suggestion and you softened. 'Hey. Hey, I was only joking.' You cupped his face with your hand, feeling him practically shaking, tears pooling in his eyes. 'Dean? What's happened?'

'Sam...Sam died.' He said, his voice trembling, and your eyes went wide in shock. 'I had to save him, it was my fault and then...' His forehead dropped down against yours as he clung to you, fear pouring off of him. 'I sold my soul, Y/N. They gave me a year. I only got six months left and... I'm scared, Y/N. I'm scared and I needed you here to -'

You shushed him, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, holding him close as he shuddered against you, trying to reign in his sobs. 'It's okay. I'm here. Whatever you need, Dean, I'm here.'

'Just...just don't leave. Not right now. Stay for a while. Please.' You nodded, closing your eyes as he held you close, wondering exactly when you'd gone and lost your heart to him.

*****

The next morning, you woke up slowly, stretching and rolling over to see Dean face down on the bed next to you. Both of you were fully clothed, your shirt was rumpled from the night spent just laying with him, talking about random crap neither of you had ever shared.

Dean was terrified of going to hell. You could see that; anyone could. Sam knew it. You'd seen the same fear in his eyes when you'd stepped into Bobby's house, the old man greeting you warmly. You hadn't spent much time with them, recognising that Dean needed you more than anyone else at that moment.

So you'd talked, and talked some more. You'd talked until Dean had fallen asleep in the crook of your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist, and your hands stroking through his short hair, your cheek pressed against the top of his head. His breathing had evened out and his entire body had relaxed into your smaller one, making you feel safe, even when you knew you should be doing that for him.

At some point during the night, you'd separated from him, but he remained close to you, searching for that comfort in his sleep. He'd saved you once. Only right you return the favour.

'Dean?' You whispered, shaking his arm softly and he stirred, grunting adorably. 'Dean?' Your whisper turned into a snigger as his hand shot out, wrapping around your hip and pulling you close. 'You gotta wake up.'

'I don't want to. If I stay asleep here, you can't leave, and time stays still.'

You sighed, kissing his forehead. 'I wish it worked that way, baby. But it doesn't.'

He opened his eyes, looking up at you with bleary vision. 'I know. But it was worth a try.' His fingers left your hip, tracing along the waistband of your jeans until he reached the front. 'I'm gonna have to try something else.' A gasp fell from your lips as he popped the button, reaching into your pants to tease you gently. 'Yep, this might work.'

'Fuck, Dean.' You grunted, edging closer.

'Wanna hear you scream my name, baby.' He muttered, shifting to change the angle, shoving his hand further into your jeans, his fingers moving through your folds easily. He sank two digits deep into your cunt, moving them at a lazy pace, teasing the whimpers from you as he smiled. 'You're already wet, huh?'

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from screaming as he thumbed your clit, his free hand pushing your jeans down your hips. When they were loose enough at your knees, you kicked them the rest of the way off, allowing him free access to you. He went to work on his own pants, pushing them off in much the same fashion.

'This is all for you, Y/N.' He rutted into you, seeking friction against your thigh, his fingers spreading you open. 'Fuck, I haven't gotten you out of my mind in two years.'

'Me either.' Your voice was husky with arousal, and you cried out as he brought you closer and closer to losing your mind on his fingers. You wanted him inside so badly, wanting to rekindle that night so long ago, make new moments to hold onto. 'Dean, please, I'm ready baby, I want you.'

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your lips, before pulling his hand away. 'Turn around.' You obliged him, rolling onto your other side, and seconds later, he pressed against you, his hand fisted around his cock as he sought out your pussy. You both groaned in tandem as he pushed inside you, his mouth caressing the back of your neck. He didn't move for a few moments, his eyes closed as he held you close against him, almost like he wanted to remember this.

'Dean, baby, please...' Your words were pleading, and he nodded, starting a slow even pace, one hand on your breast underneath your shirt and the other sliding down between your thighs, playing with your clit as he fucked you from behind. His strokes were long, and he grunted with every one, his tip brushing against the most sensitive spots inside you. His fingers tweaked your hardened nipple, and you cried out, falling over the edge with his name on your lips. Dean was quick to follow, and you bit your lip as you felt him pump into you, his come hot against your thighs as it spilled out of you around his cock. He kept thrusting, using up every last bit of pleasure, until he slumped, sated, against your back.

'I can do better.' He muttered, and you giggled, shaking your head.

'It's the quality, not quantity.' You replied, feeling him still twitching inside you. 'Besides, we've got all day.'

He frowned against the top of your back. 'You're only staying a day?'

You pulled away, turning over to face him, raising a hand to brush it down his face. 'I'll stay as long as you need me, Dean. You know that.'

He nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your palm. 'Is forever okay?'

*****

As it turned out, forever didn't happen. The boys had their own cases to solve, and whilst you kept using Bobby's as a home base, the six months Dean had left rolled around quickly. You stayed with him until the end, and when you ran into the house at Bobby's side, finding Sam cradling the shredded corpse of his brother, you felt something wither away inside you.

You stayed for the funeral, arguing with Sam about not burning the body. He kept insisting that Dean would need a body when he came back, and no matter what, you couldn't get through to him. So you left, intending on ignoring the pain. You clung to the memories, trying so hard to follow your mom's advice, but it got harder every day.

When Dean returned, four months later, you didn't know. You were on the other side of the country, taking down a werewolf coven in New York, and you'd been out of touch with Bobby and the others for weeks. You'd stopped caring, stopped searching for those moments that kept you going – you simply killed and moved on to the next job.

It was another year, when the rumbles started, when the apocalypse came knocking, and you finally discovered the truth....

****

_June 2009_

'Y/N?'

You span, gun held high, eyes wide as they landed on Dean at the other end of the corridor. 'Dean?'

He wasn't alone; Sam was stood next to him, his hair longer than it had been, and he was sporting some impressive sideburns. Dean looked more rugged, and his voice was different; lower, harsher. But his eyes...his eyes were still that same green.

'You're...you're okay, you're alive...' He rushed toward you, but you held the gun fast, prompting him to skid to a halt just before the end of the barrel. 'Y/N, put the gun down.'

'Prove it's you.' You hissed, pulling out a bottle of holy water from your pocket. 'Can't trust anyone these days.'

'Sweetheart, it's me, okay?' He caught the bottle as you threw it, pulling up his sleeve jacket and spilling the water over his skin, and you nodded as it didn't hiss, but the gun remained high. You jerked your head towards Sam.

'Him too.'

Sam rolled his eyes, but copied his brother's actions, taking the bottle from him and splashing the water onto his hand. 'Satisfied?'

You lowered the gun slowly, bringing your feet back together as you stood down. You remained wary – the years hadn't exactly been kind to your psyche, and you spent a lot of time alone on the road. 'You're looking good.' Your eyes travelled over him, and he nodded.

'You're looking....well.' He had hesitated and you knew he was thinking that you'd lost weight, your body leaner than it had been before. But that was what life on the road did – you rarely did anything but sleep, eat, work out and hunt. 'You on a hunt?'

'Demons.' You said, looking around, your gun still in your hand and your entire body still on full alert. 'There's been a lot of possessions in this area. They're looking for something.'

'A kid.' Dean said, nodding. 'We already took care of it.'

'Oh.' You shrugged. 'I guess I'll be going then.' Turning on your heel, you started to move through the derelict building, stepping over debris. You heard Dean say something to Sam, before heavy footsteps followed you.

'Y/N, wait.' Dean's hand grasped you arm and you stopped, unused to being touched that way. 'You're...are you okay?'

You turned to face him, seeing something in his eyes – he'd suffered. Of course he had. The pit wasn't a holiday destination. 'I've been alone, Dean. For a long time now.'

'I know.' He said. 'I tried to find you. Hunters I got in touch with said they hadn't heard from you in months. Hell, Bobby couldn't find you. What happened?'

You felt a pang in your chest, like someone slicing through you with a knife, and you pulled your arm from his hold, levelling your gaze with his. 'I was alone. I survived.' He frowned. 'The apocalypse started and I'm just doing what I do.' You started to move again, away from him, desperate not to hurt yourself even more. After so long of shutting out emotion and just hunting, it was too much to let it back in.

'You stopped holding on.' His voice made ice crawl through your veins, and you stopped again. Dean didn't follow; he remained where he was. 'You stopped holding onto those moments. You stopped looking for happiness.'

Slowly, you nodded, feeling the bitter sting of tears in your throat. 'I did. Because looking for happiness meant seeking out pain. You should know that better than anyone. It's a bad habit to have, Dean. We're hunters.'

'Doesn't mean we can't be happy.' The retort was quietly spoken.

'And what happiness did we get, Dean?' You turned to face him. 'A couple of good fucks, a few weeks here and there. And then I got to see you laying on a floor with your insides spread across the varnish. Yeah, I was real happy.' Your voice had become venom, and Dean flinched. 'My mom was wrong. I was wrong.'

He shook his head. 'No. You weren't. And neither was your mom. I went through hell, Y/N. I was tortured in the pit and the one thing I _always_ clung to was you.'

You drew yourself up to your full height, still shorter than him, but you needed to feel stronger. 'I. Don't. Care.'

Hurt rung through his expression, and you had to force yourself not to break. You had to fight against this emotion; to protect yourself, you had to hurt him.

'That's not you.' He whispered.

'It's more me than I've ever been, Dean.' You took a step backwards. 'And now you get to watch me leave. Tell me where the happiness is in that?'

  


  



	2. Part Two

_August 2009_

Two months had passed. You'd called to Bobby briefly, letting him know you were okay. Every time he'd opened his mouth about Dean, you'd shut him down, intending on ignoring the surging pain that welled inside you every time you thought about how you'd hurt him.

You picked up more cases, travelling every day, and when you heard the rumours that Ellen and Jo Harvelle were dead, you spent a night, and then some, drinking to their names. You'd only met them a few times, but Ellen was the nicest lady you'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. Jo was slightly younger than you, but you'd gotten on with her whenever you'd stopped by the Roadhouse before it had burnt down.

Hunters everywhere were dying, being taken out by Lucifer's acolytes. You watched one get his throat slit in the middle of a hunt, an ambush you barely escaped from. It took a week before you stopped again, keeping your foot on the gas in fear that you'd be next.

Finding a salt and burn in the midst of the apocalypse was nice. Which was an odd thing to say in itself. There wasn't anything nice about hunting. Not any more. You didn't even feel the satisfaction of saving people, because the world was going to hell in a handbasket. So you took the case, killed the spook and returned to your crappy motel room with a bottle of whiskey, intent on drowning your sorrows once more.

Jack Daniels was your only friend these days. Occasionally accompanied by Johnnie Walker.

A knock at the door in the middle of the night had you reaching for your gun, and you crept closer to the door, pulling the handle slowly. On the other side, there was a man in a beige trenchcoat, a blue tie at his throat, over a somewhat crumpled suit.

'Y/N?' He asked, and you weren't sure if it was a question.

'Can I help you?' You asked, keeping your gun out of sight but ready for use. This guy could be anything.

'Dean sent me.' That name made you straighten and you narrowed your eyes. 'He wanted me to make sure you were okay. He was concerned about you.'

'How did you find me? I'm warded.'

The man smiled, but it didn't look natural. 'I'm Castiel. I'm an angel of the lord.' He paused. 'Or I was.' His hand came up, and you realised he was waiting for you to shake it. You didn't and he dropped it again, looking a little awkward. 'Dean asked me to check in. I apologise for the intrusion so late,, I was -'

'Wait, you're an _angel_?' You blinked, unsure if you could believe him.

'I was. I fell.' He grinned, lopsided and kind of adorable. 'Can I come in?'

You were taken aback by the question, but something in you made your hand release your grip on your gun. 'I don't understand. Why did Dean send you? Why didn't he come himself?'

'He is...otherwise occupied.'

'Right? Doing what?'

Castiel hesitated. 'They are indisposed. There was a hunt, and they are recuperating at Bobby Singer's house. Dean requested I come to check on you because of the amount of hunters dying in the field. He is worried your name is on a target list they acquired.'

Colour drained from your face as you watched him. 'I'm on a target list?'

'Dean said that the last time he saw you, you were...confrontational. He was worried that if he came, you would not listen. He is very concerned.'

'So you said.' You murmured, looking down at your gun. 'We didn't leave things on the best terms.'

'However, he felt that you were avoiding further pain.' Castiel was clearly saying too much, but didn't quite get why you stared at him, dumbfounded. 'He appears to have very deep feelings for you. He was very disturbed by his last conversation with you, and wishes he had not let you run off so easily.'

'Castiel...did he tell you this?' You asked, watching him, and the angel nodded in response.

'He was intoxicated when he asked me to come. But I knew it would mean a great deal to him if I returned with news of your good health.' You snorted and Castiel frowned. 'You are not in good health?'

'I'm a hunter. Good health is objective.' Walking away, you picked up the whiskey bottle again.

'Drinking is not a good idea if you are planning to drive tomorrow.' You shrugged, and the angel frowned. 'Maybe you should return with me.'

'Not happening.'

'You are unwell.'

'I'm fine.' You scowled at him, swigging from the bottle of Jack. 'Just a little rough around the edges.' Turning to tell him to leave, you went a little cross eyed as he raised two fingers to your head, and the room around you went black.

*****

With a groan you rolled over, pushing yourself up on the comfortable mattress. You knew straight away that you weren't in your motel room – you'd have to pay more for a comfy bed like this. And you knew the sheets.

Bobby's.

That damn angel had brought you here when you'd told him not to.

Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, looking around the room. Not much had changed in the rickety old house, and you slowly swung your legs over the side of the bed noticing for the first time that all of your injuries you'd picked up in the last few months were gone and healed without scars.

You found your boots, sitting by the bed, and ignored them, favouring the feel of wooden floorboards on your socked feet as you padded across to the door, slipping out onto the landing. There wasn't any sound from the upstairs, and you took the stairs slowly, looking around warily.

There was a squeak coming from the kitchen, and you frowned as you followed the sound, finding Bobby in there, sat in a wheelchair cleaning a shotgun. Your mouth dropped open and you stared, just as he looked up to see you.

'Bobby...' Your voice was laden with horror and he rolled his eyes.

'It's not a shock, sweetheart. If you'd bothered to drop in any time in the last few months, you'd have known about this.'

'You didn't say anything on the phone.' You accused, wincing a little at the tone, but he just put the shotgun down, wheeling his way through to the study. 'And what the hell am I doing here?' Focus on the anger. Focus.

'Because Dean needs you.' He replied simply. 'Boy's close to the edge.'

'He doesn't need me.' You replied, a pout on your lips. 'He's never _needed_ me, Bobby.'

The aged hunter raised an eyebrow under his battered old cap. 'Right. Because when he got scared about going to hell, you weren't the person he called, because he couldn't admit anything to me and his brother. Face it, Y/N, he needs you, and you need him. Look at the state of you without each other. He's half a second from throwing in the towel, and you're close to becoming an alcoholic.'

'Close?' You scoffed, throwing yourself on the couch. 'Is that why you sent the freaky guy in the trenchcoat to get me?'

Bobby frowned. 'We didn't send him. Dean did some complaining whilst drunk and Cas took it upon himself to try and better the situation. Trust me, Dean wasn't jumping for joy when he poofed into the kitchen with you hanging over his shoulder, slobbering like a barfly.' He chuckled. 'Both of you are as stubborn as each other.'

'He's mad at me?' You flinched, knowing you didn't have a right to be upset. It was what you'd wanted, right?

'Hell yes, he's mad at you. You told him to get lost, then disappeared. He searched for you for months. It's only because the world is ending that he stopped. Bigger fish to fry and all.' Bobby sighed, picking up his journal. 'Anyway, I thought you might wanna read this when you woke up.'

'What is it?'

'Everything that's happening.' Bobby leant in as you took the book from him. 'Dean and Sam – they got some troubles coming their way. I think it's best for everyone if you stay.'

The front door opened, making you look up from the dusty book in your hands, and Sam walked in, closely followed by Dean. The younger Winchester looked sheepish as he saw you, heading straight for the kitchen as his brother froze in the doorway, obviously shocked to see you awake. His name dropped from your lips quietly, and his face turned from shock to anger.

'I thought she was gonna leave.' He kept his eyes on you as he spoke, and Bobby shrugged.

'She's got no shoes on. Can't very well throw her out in the dirt.'

'Well then, give her her boots and get her gone.' The malice in his voice sank straight into your stomach like a sucker punch, and you felt like the oxygen had gone out of your lungs. Two months since you'd seen him, and yet the torment you could see in his eyes was a century's worth. He marched past you into the kitchen, and you looked to Bobby, unsure of what to do.

He sighed, before wheeling himself into the other room, and you took the opportunity to run back up to the bedroom, slamming the door before you could hear Dean argue with Bobby. Tears burned hot in your eyes, and you wiped them away furiously, sinking to the floor.

How could you have been so stupid? How did you get here? You felt cold and empty, ruined. The complete opposite of everything you wanted to be.

_You grab happiness where you can find it and you hold onto those moments as fiercely as you can. Those moments are what keep you fighting, keep you hard against the things that go bump in the night. The moments are your strength._

'I'm so sorry, Mom.' The sobs started violently as you crawled towards the bed, spotting your duffel underneath it. Castiel must have brought all your stuff too. Rummaging through, you found the photo you kept from when you were a kid; your mom, dad and you smiled up happily from the picture.

A week after it was taken, your dad was gone.

You curled into the sheets, letting the tears flow, releasing the pain of so many years. You'd been worn down and broken, too much of a mess to even cling to one simply happy memory like your mother had told you to. You'd failed her.

A soft knock came at the door, and you sat up, brushing away the tears in vain, knowing your face was swollen and red. 'Come in.' Your voice was raspy and the door creaked open, Sam's head popping through the gap.

'Y/N? You okay?'

You nodded, before pausing and shaking your head. Sam's face was sympathetic as he shut the door behind him, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He pulled you close and you burst into fresh tears, feeling his arms encircle you.

'I've been a complete idiot.'

Sam chuckled. 'I'm not gonna disagree. But you're not the only one.' He sighed, rubbing your back as your loud sobs tapered off into sniffles, big fat tears landing on his plaid shirt. 'Dean is just as stubborn as you. He's arguing with Bobby right now.'

'He wants me gone.' You muttered, and Sam shook his head.

'He thinks that. But he's been a mess wondering where you are. Even with everything going on, you're his first thought most days.' He pushed hair out of your reddened face.

You sniffed, wiping at your face, pulling away a little. 'I should go. Did Castiel leave my car in Nevada?' Sam frowned.

'You're not leaving.'

'Dean wants me to go. He hates me.'

'Did you just not listen to anything I said?' Sam turned, taking hold of your hands. 'Dean _loves_ you, Y/N. He spent weeks patching you up all those years ago, and somehow you managed to keep hold of his heart. He'll never say it, not right now anyways, but he _needs_ you. More than anything. So you can't leave.' He paused. 'Your car is outside. I don't even know how he got it here.'

'I assume he drove.' You smiled a little, but Sam shook his head,

'He flew with you.'

'What?'

A door slammed downstairs and you winced, looking up at the younger Winchester, who grimaced. 'Dean is...he's gonna need time. But don't leave, okay? Don't go without trying. Please?'

You looked down at his large hands, nodding slowly. 'I'll try. I don't know what good it's gonna do, but I'll try.'

*****

'You really shouldn't be here.' Dean's voice made you jump as you sat in the yard, looking up at the stars from the hood of your car. You turned, sparing him a glance as you inhaled the clean country air, returning your gaze to the heavens.

'Bobby asked me to stay for a while. I'm not keeping you here.' You replied, keeping your eyes on Orion. The starlight twinkled and you smiled, thinking back to when you were little and went stargazing with your dad.

Dean hopped up onto the hood, keeping a little distance from you. You didn't acknowledge it, or say anything, but the proximity made you feel a little better. 'How did we get here?'

It had been two days since you'd woken up in Bobby's spare room, and two days since you'd felt more like yourself again. You'd given up the whiskey, cleaned yourself up and tried to make amends. Of course, Dean had spent the entirety of those two days avoiding you, but he was here now. Maybe you could fix things.

'I'm not sure.' You replied, looking down. 'I think at some point I started being an idiot.'

'It's not all on you, kiddo.' He grinned. 'We've both made our fair share of mistakes.'

'This wasn't ever a steady thing, Dean. We never even really talked about it.'

Dean sighed heavily. 'No. But it should have been. I was stupid to walk away the first time.'

'I let you.' You leaned into him, taking the chance on actual contact and he smiled, reaching an arm around you to pull you closer. 'And I was so...mean the last time we saw each other. I'm not surprised you wanted me to leave.'

'We've both been idiots.' He muttered, pressing his face into your hair as you leant your head on his shoulder. 'You had to watch me die, and I thought that was okay. I didn't...I didn't know how far you'd slipped when I came back. When I couldn't find you, I thought you were dead. And I was relieved to see you, so much that I didn't realise that you'd been to hell too.' You sniffed, feeling tears welling up again and his hand tightened on your opposing shoulder. 'I'm so sorry, sweetheart.'

You nodded, burying your face into him as he held you close. 'And now the world's gonna end.'

'Yeah.' He smirked. 'That's kind of our fault though.'

'I heard.' You looked up. 'I'll stay though. If you want me to.' He nodded, kissing your forehead gently. 'If it helps.'

'It does.' He smiled, and you rested your head back against his shoulder, looking up at the stars again.

*****

_May 2010_

You'd stayed by his side the whole time, even when he'd lost hope and gone to say yes, even when you'd lost hope for the future; even when Lucifer had possessed Sam. All the best laid plans had gone to shit, and Bobby lay dead on the grass, Castiel's blood was dripping from the trees, and the devil's hand was around your neck. As Dean watched, his brother's hands broke your neck, and you remembered nothing but a sharp pain and blackness.

When you woke up, you were in the backseat of the Impala, and Dean was driving. You blinked, sitting up, unsure of what was going on. Dean noticed you stir, and gave you a sad smile in the mirror.

'Hey.'

'Hey.' You looked around, seeing the empty passenger seat. Your heart dropped, and you knew, but had to ask anyway. 'Sam?'

'Gone.' Dean's single choked word made your bottom lip tremble, and you climbed over the seat into the front, as close to Dean as you could be.

'I'm sorry.' You whispered, and he nodded. 'I don't understand though, I thought...I thought he killed me.'

'He did.' He spoke tightly, his fingers flexing on the wheel. 'Cas brought you and Bobby back.'

'But Castiel was -'

Dean nodded. 'I know. It's a mess.' He reached over, pulling you closer, so your head rested under his arm. He kept one hand on the wheel. 'I promised Sam...before this...' He swallowed hard. 'I promised him I'd get out.'

'Get out of what?' You looked up, and Dean avoided your gaze, understanding dawning on you. 'Get out of hunting?' He nodded. 'How?'

'He wants me – and you – to go. Live a normal life. Like our parents wanted.' He sighed. 'I'm not sure how we do that, but I promised and -'

'Then we do it.' You said, cutting him off. 'It's gonna be hard, I mean, it's all we've ever known. But if Sam wanted that for us, then we do it.' He looked down at you, finally meeting your eyes, and the emotion you saw there was nearly overwhelming. 'We go and we pick a town, settle down. We've got skills right? I mean, I can do...something. You're good with cars. We'll figure it out.' Burying yourself in his side again, you watched his hands move on the steering wheel. 'It's just a new kind of adventure. One with less blood, right?'

He nodded, smiling as you chewed on your lip.

It wasn't what you'd ever thought about.

But Dean wanted it.

So you had to try.

*****

_January 2011_

You sat up in bed, looking over at Dean's sleeping form, smiling fondly as he rolled over with a snort. You were careful not to jostle him as you climbed out of the bed, tiptoeing down the stairs into the living room, and opening your laptop on the coffee table.

It had been seven months. And you'd tried so hard. Dean settled into a nice routine, working at a garage, bringing home the bacon. You'd found a nice, modest job stacking shelves at a local supermarket. The town you'd picked was all picket fences and nice little families, and all of your neighbours liked the nice friendly Winchesters who'd moved in next door. You'd given up your last name, faking marriage to Dean to make things a little easier.

It was respectable. It was barbecues at the weekend and people asking when you were gonna have kids. It was breakfasts at a table and putting out the garbage every week.

It was boring.

An email pinged onto your screen, and you scowled. It was too far away. No way you could manage that in a couple of hours. And Dean would know. Tapping out a reply, you sent off a “sorry” to Garth, explaining it was too far, before you moved on to another email. There was contact from Bobby, asking if you could help him with some translations, and you smiled. That was something you could do.

Two hours later, and you'd fallen asleep on the couch oblivious to the sun rising through the living room window. Dean's footsteps coming down the stairs woke you, and you slammed the lid of your computer, just as he rounded the corner and frowned at you.

'Did you sleep down here?' He asked and you shook your head.

'Well, I did, but only because I couldn't sleep and wanted to watch something.'

'One of your chick flicks?' Dean joked, bending over the back of the couch to give you a kiss. You smiled, kissing him back, and nodding. 'You're such a girl sometimes.' You stuck your tongue out as he walked into the open plan kitchen, making himself a coffee. 'You want one?'

'Yeah.' You stood up. 'So, you're not working late tonight?'

He shook his head, filling up the kettle as you stood and walked over to the breakfast bar. 'Nope. I'm all yours.'

'Maybe we could go out?' You hesitated, wondering if he'd bite. 'I mean, we've not done a whole lot over Christmas, and New Year was pretty much a bust.' That had been your fault – you'd been sick for a few days, and it had managed to coincide with the biggest drinking holiday of the year. 'I thought we could make up for it.'

He smiled as he clicked the kettle on, nodding. 'Sounds like a good idea.' He came closer, slipping his arms around your waist, pulling at your bath robe, hastily tied when you'd snuck out of bed. 'Or...we could stay in.' He pressed his lips to your neck as you moaned his name, his hands untying the robe and sliding inside. You were only wearing a sports bra and pants underneath, and his eyes glittered as he looked down. 'I've got at least half an hour before I have to leave for work.'

'You're a menace.' You whispered, before his mouth slammed into yours. He lifted you up, carrying you to the kitchen counter, his hands squeezing your ass as he ground his hips into you. 'But so very good at it.' You gasped, feeling your ass settle on the cold surface. His fingers teased at your core, pulling your panties to the side before dipping into you.

'Always so wet for me, baby.' Dean muttered, biting at the tender skin of your neck.

If there was one thing that wasn't boring about suburban life, it was the amount of sex you and Dean managed to cram into every day.

Like right now. The kettle was bubbling, and you were too focused on Dean's fingers exploring your wetness to care. He kept probing you with one hand, whilst the other went to work freeing his cock from his jeans, letting it spring free and bounce against you. With one swift thrust, he was sheathed inside you to the hilt, and you cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucked you on the kitchen side.

It was quick, but Dean always made it count. He rocked into you hard, his hands roaming over your body to touch all the sensitive parts that made you purr for him, before paying special attention to your clit, bringing you off on his cock with an expert touch. He loved watched himself plunge into you, and today was no exception, his eyes focused on where you were connected, before you came hard and he followed, spilling himself into you with a satisfied growl of pleasure, his lips pressing against yours once more before he let you down.

You pulled the robe tight, feeling your panties soak up his spendings, and he smirked down at you, returning to making the coffee. 'I fucking love you in the mornings.' You whispered, hugging him from behind.

'Just in the mornings?' He answered, mockingly sounding hurt. 'Cause I love you all the time.'

It was when he said that that you realised you needed to stop. The covert hunts, excuses and everything needed to stop. Because Dean did love you, and he would find out. It would kill him that you'd been putting yourself in danger without him knowing, without him being able to do anything.

And it would hurt even more when he found out the truth you'd been hiding for nearly a month.

 


	3. Part Three

_February 2011_

 

_**\------- You gotta stop this.** _

_\------ You think I don't know that?_

_**\------- He's going 2 find out. And he's going to kill u.** _

_\------- I'm aware_

_**\------- When are u going to tell him** _

_\------- It's Valentine's tomorrow. I don't know how he's going to react._

_**\------- Can't help there** _

_\------- I know. Can you tell Bobby to pass that rugaru case to Simon. Obv not going._

_**\------- No worries doll. CU L8r** _

 

You sat up, logging off of IM and closing the laptop as Dean's keys turned in the door. He walked into the house, smiling, one hand behind his back as he approached you sat at the kitchen table.

'Hey.' You greeted, leaning up to kiss him as he bent down. He pulled his hand out from behind his back, giving you a single tulip and you gasped. 'Oh, it's lovely. My favourite colour too.'

Dean shrugged. 'It's V-day tomorrow. Gotta spoil my girl.'

'You're too sweet.' You smiled, pulling him down for another kiss, putting the flower on the table. 'But why a tulip. Aren't roses more traditional?' His gaze darkened for a second before he smiled.

'Not a fan of roses. Tulips are prettier anyway.' He walked over to the fridge, pulling out two beers. 'So, what do you fancy doing tomorrow? We could go for a drink.' He flicked the lid off of one, and you stood up, taking the unopened one from him, ignoring his confused look.

'Actually...' You took a breath. Now or never. 'There's something I need to talk to you about.'

Dean raised an eyebrow, watching as you put the beer back in the fridge. 'Okay. Nothing bad I hope.'

'I don't know, actually.' You laughed nervously. 'Depends on your point of view.'

'Right?' He leant back against the counter, suspicious now as you rubbed your hands together in worry. 'Come on then. I'll be old before you get it out.'

You nodded, taking another breath, calming yourself. 'You know how...we've never really been...' You paused, before starting again. 'I was sick at Christmas right?' He nodded. 'Well...it turns out...I guess...I didn't notice because I'd never been regular, but then I got worried and...'

Dean held up a hand, stopping you, before standing straight. 'Y/N, just spit it out.'

'I'm pregnant.'

He froze, silence flooding the kitchen like a blanket over fire, and you watched him closely, wondering where this was going to go. You twitched, wanting to prompt him, but unsure of what to do or say next.

'How far along?' He whispered, the beer clutched tightly in his hands.

'About eleven weeks.' You replied, keeping your voice even. 'I wasn't sure how to tell you, and then I spoke to Jess and she said I needed to...' He didn't seem to acknowledge your words. 'Dean?' His green eyes looked up, meeting yours. 'I've got my first appointment next week. On Wednesday. I want you to go with me.' He nodded, and you frowned. 'Are you....are you okay with this?'

Nothing happened for a few minutes, except for Dean putting his beer down on the side, before turning to you.

You weren't sure how you ended up in the cocoon of his arms, but he was warm and laughing, and happiness was radiating off of him. 'You're amazing. And perfect. And amazing.' He punctuated each word with a kiss and you giggled, pushing him off.

'You said amazing twice.'

'Well, one of them was for this little guy.' He murmured, placing his hand over your still flat belly in wonder. 'I can't believe we did that.'

'You're not mad.' You asked, still worried. 'Because we didn't exactly plan for this. We never even really talked about it.'

Dean shrugged, getting to his knees, framing your tummy with his hands. 'Don't care if there wasn't a plan. This is perfect.' He chuckled. 'I'm surprised it didn't happen before.' He placed a kiss just above your belly button, tickling you with his day old stubble, and you let out a little laugh again. 'I love you.' He whispered, directly into your skin, before looking up at you, green eyes shining. 'I love you too.'

Pulling him to his feet, you kissed him firmly, holding him close. 'I need to tell you something else.' You said quietly. 'And you're gonna be mad at me.'

The frown on his face overtook his smile quickly and your heart dropped. 'What?'

'I've been hunting.' You said it quickly, your entire body tense at telling him the truth. 'Nothing big. Just salt and burns. I couldn't...giving it up was hard. I've been helping Garth and Bobby out. And Jess knew. But I only went on a couple. Just trying to...I don't even know what I was doing.'

His face was dark now, and you knew he was pissed. He stepped back, looking anywhere but you, breathing heavily. 'When was the last one?'

'Before Christmas.' You said automatically, being honest. 'Since then, I've been helping Bobby with research over the phone. Don't be mad at him. He doesn't know about...he doesn't and he'd kill me if he did.' Dean nodded, turning away and placing his hands on the kitchen side, his shoulders hunched as he dipped his head to control his emotions. 'Baby, I'm sorry, I just – it was the rush of doing it. I shouldn't have, I know that, and I know you're mad at me but...I'm not doing it any more.'

Dean didn't reply, and you stared at his back, wondering if you'd just ruined everything. Slowly, he straightened, turning around to you. 'Okay. I'm pissed. You know that. But...you stopped right? As soon as you found out about -' He gestured to you and you nodded emphatically. 'That's good. The research isn't such a big deal. You're not in danger.' He stepped closer, pulling you back into his arms, and you sagged with relief, the terror of him exploding about it passing. 'Just promise me...no more hunting. I know it's hard. I've struggled too.' His hands rubbed your arms, and he pulled you backwards, pressing a fierce kiss to your lips. 'You don't need to hide it from me.' Suspicion popped into your head; he was taking this really well.

'When did you speak to Bobby?' You asked, narrowing your eyes, and Dean paled, licking his lips and looking confused.

'Huh?'

You gave him a sly smile. 'When. Did. You. Talk. To. Bobby?' He shook his head, laughing.

'I don't know what you're on about, Y/N.'

'You sneaky little shit, Dean Winchester!' You launched yourself at him, poking his chest firmly as he laughed and tried to shake you off. 'You spoke to Bobby. He told you about the hunts last year, didn't he? Didn't he!' Your fingers curled into his sides, finding the spots only you knew were ticklish and he yelped.

'Mercy! Mercy!' You relented, before he picked you up over his shoulder, being very careful with you, even as you fought against him. 'Gotcha.'

'Put me down!'

'No!' He laughed, carrying you up the stairs quickly, into the bedroom. You found yourself dumped on the bed, and Dean landed on you a second later, mindful of his weight on your body. His lips attacked yours, your squeals of protest turning into groans as his hands roamed over your skin. 'I saw Bobby last week. He asked if we were up for a ghoul hunt. I was passing by after picking up supplies a town over and went in for a coffee. He spilled.'

'Well, that would explain why he's been dodging my calls for a week.' You grumbled, laying back as he crawled against your side, peppering kisses over your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. 'I am sorry though.'

'I know. But he said you were safe.' Dean smiled softly, laying his head on your breast. 'Things are gonna change, huh?' You nodded. 'But, this is as apple pie as it gets.'

'I guess so.' You muttered, looking up at the ceiling. 'I was worried...that it was boring.'

'Won't be boring with kids around.' Dean said, nuzzling into you. 'Besides, I got something else to keep you occupied.' He shifted beside you, rolling his hips up into your thigh, making you aware of what he had to occupy you with, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

'Seriously. Nothing else on your mind.'

'Hey, you're the beautiful sex goddess who keeps distracting me.' He pointed out, and you blushed.

'Shut up and kiss me.'

*****

_April 2011_

Spring had settled into the air quite nicely, and you'd started to think about decorating the baby's room. You were nearly six months along, your belly swelling nicely and Dean doted on you every second he wasn't down at the shop. He'd been to every appointment and every scan, and even insisted he be the one to tell Bobby.

There wasn't a single bit of fatherhood he wasn't excited about.

You, on the other hand, were terrified. Sure, there was the decorating and the clothes, and shopping – what girl wouldn't be excited? But then there was the world, what lay outside the front door, and what could get _in_ the front door. Paranoia didn't cover how terrified you were.

Thinking back, you wondered how you'd ended up here, and wished more than ever that your mom was with you. She'd have adored being a grandmother, and she'd have helped you every step of the way.

Not that Dean wasn't being a total sweetheart about it.

In the second week of April, Jess came to stay. She was your oldest friend, met amongst the hunter circles, and she was about as bad ass as they came. Of course, she kept the hunting talk to a minimum around the house, but you were still envious.

'You're jealous of me?' She'd exclaimed, when you'd said it off-handedly. 'Girl, look at you. You've got a gorgeous man, a beautiful home, you don't spend hours every weekend washing blood outta your favourite tops – and you're having a baby! You shouldn't be jealous. You've got the dream, sweetheart!'

You'd simply smiled, shrugging it off, but you couldn't help but feel like you were missing something deep down. Dean knew it, and he tried his hardest to try and distract you, helping with research from other hunters that needed it. You knew you couldn't hunt – hell, you were almost as big as a house – but it didn't stop you missing the old carefree life.

Jess' visit was cut short by a call to a hunt on the West Coast, and you waved her off sadly, wishing she didn't have to leave. Dean stood at your side, one arm wrapped around you, sensing your unhappiness. He put it down to hormones, but you knew it was something more. You couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was coming.

April moved along, and Dean threw himself into decorating the little box room next to your room. It made you smile to watch him so excited by everything. When the baby had kicked for the first time, he'd practically squealed, and he was always the first at your side when it did it again.

A storm blew up out of nowhere in the last week of April, and it raged for three days. The town went into lock down, and Dean made up a bed in the cellar for you to share. You spent most of the time eating food that was bad for you, and Dean didn't discourage it, keeping an eye out for any damage to the house. You'd experienced storms like this before, but it was different when you had roots.

On the third day, you snuck upstairs when the rain and wind had lulled down, noticing the broken window in the living room and the half a tree sticking out of it. You'd tiptoed over, looking outside at the flooded street, seeing that the Murphy's over the street had lost their camper-van to the wind. That was a shame. Bryan loved that old thing.

As you surveyed the rest of the damage on the street, one of the lamps flickered, and caught your eye. You squinted, trying to see if there was anyone out there, but you didn't think anyone would be in this weather. A black car was parked just under the light and as it came on again, your eyes widened.

Sam was in the car.

'Dean!' You screamed, turning towards the stairs, just as thunder crashed overhead. You ducked as glass smashed, sprinkling over your head, and Dean burst into the room, grabbing you, and taking you downstairs as the storm whipped up again.

'What were you doing?' He hissed, once you were back in the relative safety of the basement. 'You scared the hell outta me.'

'I was..I don't know.' You sobbed, the fright getting to you. Being pregnant had frazzled your nerves to hell and back. 'But I looked out the window and I _saw Sam_ , Dean. He was out there. In a car.'

Dean stared at you, before shaking his head. 'No. You were seeing things. You're tired and stressed out and -'

'I know what I saw!' You yelled, slapping his arm. 'Don't you feed me that bullshit, Dean Winchester. I might be a lot of things, but I _saw your brother_.' You sat down on the small bed, slumping. 'I'm not going crazy. Ever since we've moved here I've felt weird. Off. Like nothing is right.'

Dean knelt in front of you, taking your hands. 'Am I right? Or am I part of the problem?'

'What?' You blinked at him, before shaking your head. 'No. It's not you. It's not the house. It's not...' You looked down. 'I think I'm just...breaking away from all that. Maybe it broke me.'

He frowned. 'You think that it might be PTSD?'

'I didn't say that.'

'No, but the way you described it – baby, it's worth considering. Even if it is, it's not your fault. You...we've both seen a lot.' You chewed the inside of your mouth, mulling over his words carefully, as he pulled you into his arms on the bed, holding you close. 'We'll talk about it tomorrow.' He whispered, kissing the top of your head. 'Hopefully this storm will be gone.'

You nodded, letting your body relax, even though your mind was going a mile a minute.

You were sure you'd seen Sam outside.

It _was_ him.

*****

_May 2011_

The sun was shining outside the kitchen window as you stood, elbow deep in dishes, and a dreamy look on your face. Your swollen belly pressed against the counter, and you jumped a little when arms surrounded you, warm lips pressing against the back of your neck.

'How you feeling today?' Dean's voice rumbled along your spine as he kept kissing you, and you smiled, leaning back into him, your daydream broken. 'Any more nausea?'

'No.' You replied, closing your eyes as his hands roamed from your belly up to your breasts.

'You were off somewhere else, huh?' Dean chuckled, his mouth moving against your ear. 'Who was he?'

You moaned as he brushed over your sensitive nipples with his thumbs. 'You. Was thinking about the very first time I saw you.'

'Oh yeah?' His lips caught your earlobe, nibbling softly as you giggled at the sensation. 'Love at first sight, wasn't it?'

'Not quite.' You sighed.

You were twelve when you'd first met Dean, and he was a couple years older, a gangly fifteen year old with an attitude to boot. Sam was eleven, and with him, it had been friends from the get go. You both liked books and school, and it hadn't taken long for a firm friendship to develop.

'Tell me.' Dean whispered, holding you close, resting his chin on your shoulder.

'You were fifteen. My mom had met up with your dad for help on a shtriga hunt. Us kids were supposed to stick together at the motel, but you were just pissed you had to babysit.' Dean nodded against you and you smiled. 'I had a crush on you straight away.'

'So it was love at first sight.'

'Until you started being a grumpy douchebag, yeah.' You pulled your hands from the water, grabbing the tea towel on the side and drying your skin quickly, before Dean turned you to face him, the very evident presence of your pregnancy between you. 'You wanted to watch some sports thing, so me and Sam played a game.'

A sad smile ghosted over Dean's face as you spoke of his brother. Nothing had been mentioned of the incident in April since it happened. 'Always thought you two would hook up.'

You shook your head. 'No. Sam was never my type. Friend material but – hmmmm -' You kissed Dean softly, tasting the beer he'd had with lunch on his lips. 'You were always it. Even when you told me I was a stupid kid.'

'Never really thought that.' He muttered against your cheek, his hands cradling your stomach once more. 'First time I saw you, I thought you were older. Then your mom said you were only twelve and I thought...well, I thought my luck was out. Guess I got a little jealous of how friendly you and Sam were.'

'You were jealous?' You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. 'How does Dean Winchester get jealous? With all the women you've bedded?'

'Not the point.' He whispered. 'I always wanted what I couldn't have. You. This.' He gestured to the house. 'Now I have it, I'm not letting go.' The smile on his face was tinged with something you couldn't quite place, but it was genuine and good to see. 'Grabbing on to that happiness, right?'

'Right.' Your voice was low as you kissed him again, feeling that familiar warmth in your core as he deepened it, his tongue pressing into the hot cavern of your mouth as he moaned against you.

Then the doorbell rang and shattered the moment. Dean ignored it, holding you close as you tried to pull away, confusion on his face as you succeeded, laughing a little.

'What's so funny?' He asked.

The doorbell rang again. 'I gotta answer that?'

'Answer what?' His frown deepened, and you pointed at the door.

'The doorbell?'

'Sweetheart, the doorbell isn't ringing.' He went to pull you close just as the bell sounded again and you dodged his touch to run over to it. Flinging it open, you froze, colour draining from your face as you saw who was there.

Dean stared back at you from the front step, looking rougher than the Dean stood in your kitchen, fear and confusion all over him. From the kitchen, Dean called to you, and you listened without moving.

'I'll be upstairs, okay? Just come up when you're ready for me.' His tone was suggestive, but you didn't know how to respond, listening to his footsteps pound up the stairs. The Dean on the doorstep raised an eyebrow, his eyes dropping to your baby bump as your breathing started to spiral out of control.

Your voice was a dry whisper as you opened your mouth, wanting to know what the hell was going on. 'Dean?'

'Yeah. The real Dean.'

'But I -'

'Sweetheart, this is a dream. You need to wake up.'

'Wake up?' You shook your head, stepping back as he put his foot over the threshold, reaching his hands out to you. 'This isn't real. You're a – you're a shifter or something.'

'He didn't see me. Didn't hear me.' He jerked his head in the direction of the stairs, and his doppelgänger. 'This is a dream, and you need to wake up before you die.'

'I don't understand.' You stumbled backwards, feeling the baby kick, and goddamn it felt _real._ It was real. Everything was real. 'Dean, this is real, this is my life. We're happy, we're -' _PTSD._ You were hallucinating. Like with Sam. You must be.

'Baby, you gotta see it.' Dean-not-Dean-was-it-Dean? was coming closer, his eyes pleading with you. 'You must have felt something was wrong, that this is _wrong_? Please. Come back to me.'

'No, I'm here, I'm here.' You crouched down, grabbing your head, still feeling the urgent kicks inside your stomach. Dean-not-Dean-was-it-Dean? touched you, and he felt _warm_ , and _solid,_ and...

The world went black.

 


	4. Part Four

_May 2011 (The real world)_

You rolled over, feeling the hard mattress underneath you. It wasn't the bed you'd become accustomed to in the last few months of suburban living, and you frowned, opening your eyes. At that moment, you felt lighter than you had been, and you realised you were laying on your stomach.

Shock and terror prompted you to bolt upright, on the alert for any attack coming your way but all you saw was Dean, his pale face drawn in tiredness and worry.

'Y/N! Calm down, it's just me.' His hands were on your face, and you felt too hot, too close – where were you?

You must have voice the question out loud, because Dean's face softened and he sat on the bed next to you, still keeping contact with your skin. 'We're with Sam. What do you remember?'

'I was...I was doing the dishes. And you were with me. We were talking about...about when we first met...and...' Your head heard and you scrambled away, clutching your temples, your eyes moving down your body to your flat stomach. You felt empty, and raised tearful eyes to Dean. 'Where – where's our baby, Dean?'

He looked so sad as he shook his head. 'That wasn't real. Everything you've...it wasn't real.' His voice broke as you stared at him in denial and horror. 'There was a gang of djinn. They took you. Poisoned you. When me and Sam found you, you were....'

' _Sam_?' You hissed. 'Sam is dead.'

Another shake of his head. 'Baby, you need to calm down and focus. You'll remember. Just...just breathe okay?' You didn't realise until he said it but your chest was heaving and your head was swimming. A panic attack was taking hold of your body and you shook, feeling the incredible urge to bolt. This must be a lie. You'd been _happy_. You'd been safe and warm and loved and moving on with your life.

But you'd known.

You'd always felt like something was wrong.'

Dean was talking again. 'Sam came back. He was the first one to find you. He was...he was never gone apparently.' He seemed angry. 'We spent a year mourning him, hiding out in the frickin' suburbs and he was _never_ dead.'

You stared, feeling sick, and the urge to vomit overtook you with surprising speed. Dean was there, holding back your hair as you threw up across the filthy floor, wrinkling his nose at the acrid smell.

'You're gonna feel sick for a while, baby. That djinn had you for nearly two days. If we hadn't found you when we did...I'd have lost you.'

You already felt like you'd lost you. Two days? How much of what you'd seen was real?

'I remember...Valentine's Day. I cooked you a steak, and all you could talk about was how happy you were to be a dad.' Your voice was a broken whisper, and your throat stung from the acidic bile you'd thrown up. Tears pricked at your eyes briefly before spilling down your cheeks. 'How much of it was fake? How much was...I don't remember -'

'It'll come back to you.' Dean pulled you close, holding you tight, but the embrace felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. It was your mind causing this problem, you knew this was the _real_ world – it hurt too much to be anything else. And Dean...

'You used the dream root.' He nodded in confirmation. 'How much did you see?'

'You wouldn't wake up.'

You gritted your teeth, pulling away from him. ' _How much_?'

He swallowed, those green eyes focusing on you. 'I saw you, with the...I saw you pregnant. Happy. With me.'

'We didn't have that.' You whispered. 'It wasn't real. We were...'

'I thought we were happy.' He replied. 'You never said you wanted more.'

You shook your head, standing from the bed, your legs wobbling underneath you, and you held onto the wall for support, brushing Dean off as you moved as far away from him as you could in that moment. Glimpses of memories were coming back to you – the _real_ memories.

The house in the suburbs, but there wasn't any neighbourhood barbecues because you and Dean kept to yourselves. There were whispers amongst them when you went to the grocery store, because no one knew who you were. You'd never taken his name.

You'd never worked in a store, and Dean had continued to help out other hunters, despite his promise to Sam. That “normal, apple pie life” had never come about. The house and the single location was true, but neither of you could quit. There was rushed fucking in the dark, but the spark wasn't there. Dean was too broken from losing his brother, and you were too broken from dying and coming back again. Pulling yourself away from the life and into isolation had haunted you. Both of you trying to go through the motions but coming back as dead as the people you'd lost.

The djinn had caught you, taking out the trash one evening, when Dean was out on a supply run. You remembered your last thought, clear as day when the monster's blue hand had covered your face.

 _Maybe this way I'll be at peace_.

You'd been ready to die.

The shock of that realisation made you sink to your knees, just as the door opened. Sam walked in, and right away you knew something was off with him. His eyes were cold, his movements were calculated, and even the way he smiled at you in greeting chilled you to the bone.

'Y/N, you're awake.' He nodded at Dean, glancing over the puddle of vomit by the bed. 'Thought we were going to lose you.' The tone of his voice said that he couldn't give a fuck even if they had.

You got to your feet again, still shaking, still in shock, and spared a glance for Dean.

And then you walked out the door.

*****

It didn't take long for him to find you.

You were at the house, seeing the damage done by the fight with the djinn. Furniture was overturned, mirrors smashed – your framed picture of your parents lay on the living room floor in pieces. When Dean finally turned up, you were in the box room, seeing the plain grey walls and bared floor – whereas the last time you'd seen it, it was decorated with bright colours and ducks, a new crib against one wall and a toy chest on the other.

The entire house was drab and bare. Not like the house you and Dean had fixed up and made a home. This was just rooms – there was no love or life here.

'Y/N?' He asked, stepping into the room behind you.

'We should have made something more of this.' You whispered, still feeling the fake memories as somewhat real. 'We wasted it.' Your chin dropped to your chest. 'Not that it matters now. You'll go with Sam.'

'What will you do?' He didn't deny it. He was already hunting again, even if he wasn't on the road. Too easy to shed the new for the familiar. You shrugged in response to his question, moving to the window. 'Come with us.'

'No.' The word was simple but it changed the entire atmosphere of the room, and you could feel him draw further away. Not that it mattered – you'd lost him months ago. 'I can't...'

'Because of some fake world where we loved each other and were having a kid?' He scoffed, and anger replaced every single emotion, coursing through you, red and hot and directed at him. 'It wasn't real. Everything was in your head, Y/N. The djinn made you see it -'

'Made me see what I'd wasted.' You spat, turning to face Dean with unconcealed loathing on your face. 'I was in _love_ with you, Dean. I've been in love with you since that week where you treated me like a stupid little kid, inconveniencing you because you wanted to hunt.' You refused to allow the tears, holding onto to the white spark of anger in your chest. 'But it turns out, that was never gonna change. Go hunt. I'm done.'

He opened his mouth to argue, before snapping it shut, giving you a tight nod. 'Be safe, Y/N.' He said, and his words were empty of emotion, but you could see it all in his eyes.

When you heard the door downstairs slam, you gave in, letting the tears fall. In the empty room, you surrendered to the darkness growing in your soul and let go of everything.

*****

_December 2011_

It had been five months since Dean had left you in the house. You'd picked yourself up off of the floor, cleared your things from the house, and left it behind, a piece of yourself with it.

And you'd gone back to the only thing you knew how to do alone.

Hunting was easy. Simple. You killed monsters, or you got killed by a monster. Life on the road was a journey you'd taken before and one you knew the direction for without anyone telling you. Pushing away thoughts of your family, any thoughts of the Winchesters, became a daily chore, sorta like brushing your teeth.

You didn't look for happiness at all any more.

The nightmares came swiftly, and soon after they'd started, you'd stopped sleeping much. The whiskey bottles that littered the floor of your car were just a reminder that you'd gone back to how you were. But no angels would be turning up on your doorstep this time. You'd learned from your mistakes and warded yourself against _everything_.

Eventually, you stopped using motels. If you weren't sleeping in the battered old red Camero, you were squatting in abandoned buildings or isolated cabins in the middle of nowhere. Quick strip washes and showers became your modus operandi, and you knew every truck stop south of Texas. When you felt the need, you picked up an easy fuck in a bar or club.

You avoided anyone with green eyes or blond hair.

It was only to satisfy an itch.

And you'd become a fucking expert at sneaking out of the smallest window. Not one of those easy lays saw you in the morning light.

Of course, you saw other hunters, and they recognised you, but you didn't speak about the Winchesters or anything else. If anyone mentioned Dean, you went dark on them, unwilling to discuss. You heard the rumours, and it was easy to sense that something big was coming.

But you didn't care.

There was nothing to care for.

Jess got in contact with you, just before Christmas. She was the only one who had your contact details, and she needed help on a hunt. The text was brief, but it prompted you to call her back straight away.

' _Y/N! Hi_.'

'Hey, Jess.' You kept your voice casual, but she picked up on the undertone straight away.

' _You sound awful_.'

'Gee, thanks.' You spat. 'You want my help or not?'

' _Please_.' She begged, and you wondered what had her so spooked. Jess was one of the most badass women you'd ever seen, and it took a lot to freak her out. _'I've got a problem with these...I don't even know what they are. Bobby didn't know either.'_

'Bobby?' You narrowed your eyes. 'He's there?'

' _No, I called him for help. Don't worry, I didn't tell him where you are. Not that I've got a clue either.'_

'Were -'

_'No. No mention of them. I know the drill, Y/N. No mentions of the past. Now, will you haul ass out to Philly and help me with this damn case?'_

You were on the road within the hour, the whiskey still buzzing through your veins. Philly was at least a six hour drive, and you had to clear your head before you got there, otherwise Jess would have your ass for being so careless.

On the freeway, you stopped for a coffee, keeping it brief and grabbing some protein bars for the rest of the journey.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when you reached the small town on the outskirts of Philadelphia, and found Jess anxiously waiting for you outside the motel she'd booked into. Climbing from your vehicle, she ran over, wrapping you in her warm embrace.

'Shit, you had me worried.' You knew she was checking the car, but you'd ditched the evidence of your drinking about thirty miles back. 'Drive was okay?' You shrugged, and she frowned. 'Come on, let's get inside and I'll catch you up.'

The case was simple, or so she'd thought. A bunch of animalistic murders, no wendigo, no werewolves, cause the hearts were still there. But it was something out of the ordinary because of the purple blood found at the scenes, and the fact that every single victim was missing their spleens.

'So you've narrowed everything down to this spot?' You pointed to the map, an old cemetery on the other side of town. 'You tracked whatever it is.'

'Yeah. Heard a whole bunch of growling, but didn't see anything.' Jess leant back in her chair. 'Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will help. There was another victim last night. Detective Small called me, told me that it's the same all over again.'

'Detective Small?'

Jess grinned. 'Trust me, he's anything but.'

You shook your head. 'Thought you'd learnt your lesson about sleeping with the investigating officers.'

'Girl had a need.' She smiled, folding her arms over her chest. 'You know what it's like. And no harm, no foul. It's been a while.'

'Whatever. So we wait for nightfall, go to the cemetery and see if we can find our mystery monsters?'

'Sounds like a good plan.' Jess slapped a hand on her thigh, giving you a wide grin before yawning. 'Well, I'm gonna hit the hay. You should too, you look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in months.' You nodded, not commenting, keeping your eyes on the table as your friend stood, heading into the bathroom.

Sleep wasn't on your mind. Not when you knew what awaited in your subconscious.

*****

Night fell quickly, and you armed yourself ready for the fight you knew you'd find. Jess had to have missed something, maybe she was too close or some bullcrap like that, but she'd only call you in if she _really_ needed the help.

The cemetery was a twenty minute drive, and you opted to take Jess' car as it didn't make as much of a scene as yours did. You knew you had to get that engine looked at before it failed in keeping you under the radar.

Jess took the lead, creeping into the darkness ahead of you and it wasn't five minutes before the growling started. She looked back at you, nodding and you drew your gun, hoping to have some range on whatever beastie was out there.

You weren't expecting to be taken off of your feet by something small and furry, and _completely invisible._

'Should have known a hunter would come creeping.' The accent was British and you stood straight, keeping your gun up, as Jess looked at you quizzically. You knew the voice; you'd met him before.

'Crowley.' You grimaced as the crossroads demon stepped into view.

'You know him?' Jess hissed, keeping her weapon trained on the tailored suit in front of her.

'I know him. He helped a little – back in the day.'

Crowley grinned. 'What, no Winchesters with you?' He asked, and you scowled, before he made a little face of understanding. 'Oh, that's right. You don't play with the big boys any more, do you Y/N? If you ask me, they were always out of your league anyway.' The growling started again, to his side and you moved your gun to focus on that. 'Don't mind them. I'm afraid this has been a big misunderstanding.'

'I think you got the word wrong.' Jess spat. 'It's murder, not misunderstanding.'

'Ah, well, you see, this quaint little town happens to house a hellgate. Only a little one, and it doesn't lead anywhere very fancy. Nothing to write home about.' He smiled in your direction and you narrowed your eyes at him again. 'But, it does lead to the hellhound spawning ground. I'm afraid some adolescents escaped, and well...they're practising for the big leagues.'

'Hellhounds?' Jess glanced at you and you rolled your eyes. You'd seen – well, not _seen_ – hellhounds before, but Jess hadn't. 'Are those even real?'

'Oh, you can't see them sweetheart. But good old Juliet here -' he reached to his right, patting something in mid air than then made a whumph sound and growled a little, 'has just had a litter of six little pups. And they're a little playful.' He leant forward. 'Sorry about that, Y/N.'

'That was what knocked you over?'

You shrugged at Jess, lowering your gun. 'It's difficult to kill these things, Jess.' Your eyes went back to Crowley. 'Are you closing this gate?'

'Yes. Can't have anyone trying to steal a weapon from hell, now, can we?' He bent down, scooping up something from the ground that wriggled in his arms. 'Unless you need a pet, Y/N? I did always like you.'

'Stuff it with walnuts.' You spat, putting your gun away. 'Get your monsters under control, Crowley, or I'll be causing a shit ton of trouble for you.'

'What?' Jess said, keeping her gun aimed. 'We can't just _leave_. People are dead.'

'There's no winning fight to be had here, Jess.' You shook your head. 'Those things'll tear you apart. Believe me, I've seen it.' She stared at you, open mouthed as you started to walk away. Crowley cleared his throat.

'You should probably listen, Pippa. Off you trot.' He turned away, the scampering and growling following him. 'Catch you around, Y/N.'

You headed back to the car, ignoring memories of old, when Jess caught up to you and slammed you into the car door.

'What the hell was that?' She demanded. 'You just turn your back on a _demon_ and walk? What the hell?'

You shrugged. 'Nothing we could have done. Crowley is powerful – there's no outright killing him. And hellhounds...I don't wanna watch you die, Jess, and I'm not in the mood to be having my insides ripped out right now.'

'You just left! You didn't even -'

The thin frayed fabric of your temper snapped and you pushed her off, sending her stumbling backwards. 'Where do you get off, huh? I come down here to help you, and when I say there's nothing to be done, you _attack_ me? He's not someone you wanna fuck with, Jess!'

She got to her feet, scowling at you for all she was worth. 'Yeah, you came down here. Drunk as fuck. I could smell it on you, Y/N! You hid the evidence, but it's easy to see, you're a fucking mess! You don't sleep, you don't eat, you just kill things. You've lost it!'

'That's none of your business.' You folded your arms, face cold as stone in the wake of her accusations. You didn't want to acknowledge their truth. You knew how far you'd fallen, and you didn't care.

'It used to be! Jesus, Y/N...you're so far off the reservation, I don't know how you haven't been killed!' She threw her hands up in the air. 'And all because you couldn't get it together when you were with Dean and -'

The sound of a gun cocking made her still, and she realised you were pointing your 9mm at her. 'Shut up, Jess.'

The confused fear on her face was plain to see. 'Y/N? Put the gun down, sweetie. Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm just worried about you. You're pushing every one away. I didn't -'

'Get in the car.' You said, dropping the gun, your heart hammering in your chest. 'Take me back to the motel.'

'Sweetie, we can call Bobby, we can fix this, you need help.' You turned your back on her, getting into the car without looking back. She followed, reluctantly, sitting in the drivers seat, and turning to you. 'Let me call him, Y/N.'

'No. Just drive.'

Jess opened her mouth again, but shut it seconds later, seeing the stone cold resolution on your face. The drive back to the motel was silent.

You didn't stay. You packed your things and left, without saying a word to her. She watched from the window as your old Camero left the parking lot, before turning to pick up her phone, dialling a number she'd kept just in case.

'Dean? Yeah. Sorry, it's Jessica. I was just...Y/N was here.' She listened, before sighing. 'She's not right, Dean. She needs help. Before she kills herself. She's heading south on route twenty three out of Philadelphia.' Another breath as she waited for Dean to write it down. 'Find her Dean. Before it's too late?'

*****

You stopped at another motel, four hours later, when you were satisfied you were far enough away. It wasn't difficult to guess that Jess would call Bobby or someone and let them know where you were. And you weren't about to be found. Using a motel was probably not a good idea, but you needed a hot shower and a decent bed for the night. You'd been awake nearly forty eight hours, and you were running on empty without a good drink to put you under.

As you slipped into an old t-shirt and sweatpants for the night, you realised you weren't alone in the motel room, turning to find Crowley on the other side of the room.

'You might want to ward this place. Or change your car.' He looked out the window, before turning to you and smiling. 'You don't look too good, Y/N. Lost weight?'

'What do you want?' You asked, folding your arms as you watched him. Your gun was too far away, and it wouldn't do you any good anyway.

'You know, I always thought Dean Winchester was punching above his weight with you. This strong independent woman, and he went and broke her like he does all the nice things. You're going down a dark path here, and as with all dark things, I'd like to see it work in my favour, as well as yours.'

'I'm not interested in making a deal with the devil, Crowley.'

'Oh, darling, I'm not the devil.' He grinned. 'I'm the King, and I honour my word.' He stepped towards you, his eyes openly raking down your body, to the curves you still had despite your lousy diet. 'How about I make you an offer you can't refuse?'

You raised an eyebrow. 'I'm listening. For now.'

'I need hunters. I need _reliable_ hunters. No ties. No...family.' He paused, apparently waiting for a reaction, but you gave none. 'And you, my sweet, have been doing a perfect job lately. I simply want you to hunt down some...specific creatures for me and bring them to a noted location.'

'And that's it?' You asked, Crowley nodding in return. 'And what do I get out of this little deal?'

'What do you want, Y/N?'

You looked down, before unfolding your arms and taking a breath.

'I want to forget I ever met Dean Winchester.'

 


	5. Part Five

_March 2012_

You'd noticed some odd things over the past month. For one, the strange occurrences of entire cults being taken out, and miracles happening everywhere and the Madison Square Garden being completely destroyed, definitely threw up warnings signs. You were in the south, in Tucson, recovering from a werewolf hunt that had gone pretty wrong.

At the moment, you were holed up in a crappy little motel, letting your three broken ribs heal from where you'd gotten intimate with a concrete wall. There were six healing scratches on your left thigh, which had started out as deep gashes, and your eye was slowly reopening again after being swollen shut from a kick to the face.

Werewolves were underhanded fighters, that's for sure. Especially when they were females.

But they were dead, and you were alive, sort of, and that was the main thing. You hated being stuck in one place, but you had to heal before you could get on the road. Sleep would be a good idea too, but you were out of the nice drugs you'd gotten from that pharmacy in Austin, and you were waiting on a friend to bring you more.

Said friend was three hours late, but you knew he'd have a good reason for it.

'Waiting for me?'

Crowley's voice made you sit up, and you grimaced at the continuing pain in your side. 'Yeah, I was. What took you so long?'

'I'm lying low.'

You raised an eyebrow at him, as he handed over the pharmacy bag. Checking the contents, you felt relief flood through you as you realised you could _finally_ get some decent rest. 'You're lying low? From who? You're the king aren't you?'

'I am. But it doesn't mean I don't have enemies, sweetheart. And I happen to have a new boss who doesn't like me a whole bunch.'

'A new boss?' You ripped open a packet of painkillers and threw them back, swallowing without water. 'Who the hell is boss of a king?'

'Someone who could make me explode with a click of his fingers.' Crowley muttered, sitting at the other end of the sofa. You took a moment to really look at him and realised just how crappy he was appearing these days. He hadn't shaved in a while, and his usually perfectly presented suit was rumpled in more places than you could see. 'The _new_ God.'

'God?'

'Castiel. Decided to suck up a bunch of souls and got a nice little power boost.'

You blinked. The name sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it. 'Well, whoever he is, I'm assuming he's responsible for all these miracles I've been hearing about?'

'That'd be the deity.' Crowley sighed, slumping into the seat. 'This is all going to end in tears. I don't even know if the Winchesters can handle this mess.' He looked at you sharply, as if he was waiting for a reaction, but you just shrugged.

'From what I hear, they're the best in the business. Maybe they can handle it.' You yawned, pulling out the sedatives he'd brought you. 'Anyway, it's been _real_ nice, but I need to get some sleep. Think you could pop out of here and go...do whatever? I'm assuming you don't have any work for me since you don't need all those Alphas any more.'

'No work for now.' He said, standing up, looking a little disappointed. 'But I'll call if I need anything. You carry on with what you're doing. Enjoy the pharmaceuticals.'

'Oh, I will.' You grinned, swallowing down twice the dosage of sleeping tablets you were supposed to take, anticipating a full night's rest. Crowley made a funny noise on his throat, before clicking his fingers and disappearing.

As sleep overtook you, your dreams attempted to break through, and green eyes glittered in the dark. But you slipped on by into a deeper rest, completely unaware.

*****

_June 2012_

Dean slammed the paper down, frustration pouring off of him as he stared at the television. There was only so much more he could take of hiding out, unable to work like he normally did. Researching was driving him crazy, and Bobby had gone on a supply run without him. Spending weeks upon end in the same place, with the same four walls and same two other guys for company was enough to try anyone's patience, and Dean didn't have a whole lot of it in the first place.

Sam looked up from the table, where he was buried in researching the Leviathans, a frown on his face. 'You okay, dude?'

'I'm friggin' fantastic.' Dean replied, his voice loaded with sarcasm, and Sam raised his eyebrows, looking back down at his book. He knew better than to rile Dean up; his brother was wound as tight as they came. If the pending monster take over and everything else wasn't enough, he still wasn't over....

Best not to say your name around him really.

Since walking out of that house, Dean had been a mess. Oh, he looked like he had it all together, but even without a soul, Sam had been able see it. He was hanging on by a thread, and killing monsters was the only thing that kept his mind from completely snapping. Sam's problems had only been a distraction, and when that was seemingly dealt with, Dean had gone right back to shots of whiskey, interspersed with the hunts. Crowley's manipulation had only added to the stress on Dean's back, and the phone call telling him you were going off the deep end had him panicked and worried.

He'd tried to find you, only to meet a dead end at every turn, even after your friend Jessica had been in contact with him. Crowley had refused to give up your location, once it had come to light you were working for him, and had been tight lipped on the entire matter – Dean had only found out about your allegiance with him because of Samuel's knowledge.

And hadn't that been fun.

Castiel's betrayal, and the consequential release of the Leviathan had caused Dean to further withdraw into himself, leaving the short tempered, ill mannered brother that currently sat opposite him on the battered old couch in Rufus' cabin.

'I'm so done with this Leviathan bullshit.' Dean muttered, standing up from the couch. He picked up his coat and gun, heading for the front door.

'Where are you going?'

'For a drink. I'm going nuts.'

Sam stood up, and Dean blinked at him in confusion, prompting Sam to open his hands in a non-threatening gesture. 'I'm going with you.'

'I don't need a babysitter, Sam.'

'I know that. But I could use some air too.' He grabbed his coat, following his disgruntled brother out of the door. The drive into town in the shitty old Ford Cortina was slow and silent, Dean's hands flexing on the steering wheel. He was never still these days, and he drank too much; both alcohol and coffee. Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him get a decent night's sleep.

The bar Dean picked was off the road, run down and a complete dive, but Sam didn't saw anything as he trudged behind him and took a seat at the bar. Dean ordered two beers, which came complete with dirty old glasses. Briefly, Sam wondered if you could catch ebola from beer.

'So, out with it.' Dean grumbled, not looking his way.

'What?'

'I know you, Sam. You've got a thousand questions bubbling away in that big brain of yours.'

Sam wanted to return with a quip, but after twelve months, he didn't have it in him anymore. 'We should try and find her again.'

'She doesn't wanna see me.' Dean countered, sipping at the stale beer. 'She made that clear.'

'You ever consider that she was broken, hurting? I mean, she lost everything back there.'

'It wasn't real.'

'To you. But to her, it _was_. You've been poisoned by a djinn before, Dean. You know how real it seems.' Sam sighed, pushing the glass around the bartop. 'She came back to this world and it had all been taken away from her. She was happy, despite it being fake. You didn't give her a chance -'

Dean sat up straight, looking his brother in the eye, and the amount of pain there was enough to make Sam wince. 'Yeah, I bolted. I shouldn't have. But it's too late to go back and change that. It's been a year, Sam. A year. You know how many times I've called her phone? Only to hear that same message, before it stopped working altogether? She doesn't wanna be found.'

'Even so, we can try -'

'I can't sleep without seeing her. Going into her head, seeing what she _wanted_ from our life? From us being together?' Dean swallowed hard, moisture pooling in his eyes, and Sam could see him holding back the emotions. 'I failed her. I didn't give her what she wanted, or what she _needed_. I was too focused on my own selfish need, my own...I don't deserve to find her, Sam.' He looked down, a single tear escaping as he wiped at his face brutally. 'I never deserved her.'

'Dean -'

The music in the bar stopped, and Sam frowned, turning on his stool, slowly followed in the action by Dean. Across the room, Crowley stood, a ponderous look on his face as he watched both Winchesters.

'Is this where you're hiding?' He wiped a finger down the filthy pool table, scowling at the dirt. 'Nice place.'

Dean's eyes narrowed as he watched Crowley, suspicion drowning out everything else he'd been fighting off a few moments previous. 'What do you want?'

'Well, I overhead a little birdie...' Crowley chuckled. 'I shouldn't tell lies. I was eavesdropping. You two leave the protective circle of wherever you've been hiding, and I can't resist. You see, I've got a little investment, and it's on the edge of going wrong.'

'We don't work for you any more, Crowley.' Sam ground out, standing up from the stool. 'So whatever it is -'

'It's Y/N.' Crowley said, offhandedly interrupting the younger Winchester. Both of them froze at the mention of your name, and the demon grinned, knowing he had their attention. 'She was working a job and it isn't going very well. She's been captured, and you two need to go galloping in to save her.'

'She's hurt?'

'She'll be dead if you keep standing here twittering at me.' Crowley deadpanned. 'She's in Wyoming. Here's the address.' He held out a folded slip of paper, which Sam took warily. 'It's warded against me, so I think they were trying to set a trap. They won't be expecting you two.'

'What are we facing?'

'Some of Eve's leftovers. Looking for revenge I think.' Crowley shrugged. 'Nothing I particularly care about, but Y/N has been a very useful asset and I'd hate to lose her.' He turned away. 'Oh, one more thing. You might want to be tightlipped about your past with her, Dean. See, she doesn't remember you. In the slightest.' Dean's face fell, and he lunged forward, only to be held back by his brother as Crowley shook his head. 'Don't blame me, Squirrel. She asked for it.'

He disappeared, and Dean stopped fighting Sam, almost slumping in his hold.

'She doesn't...she doesn't remember me?' He whispered, and the sound of it was so broken. Sam swallowed hard, holding his brother up, keeping him on his feet. 'Why would she ask for that?' Tears filled his eyes and Sam watched pain swamp his face. 'I really hurt her that bad?'

'Dean....I don't wanna sound like a complete douche but...we don't have time. If we're gonna save her, we gotta go.' He placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder, and the older hunter looked at it in confusion, before his eyes drifted back to Sam's face. 'Whatever she did, we can fix it. I promise.' He didn't know how much truth that promise held, but he knew that he'd do whatever he could.

Dean nodded slowly, but the light was gone from his eyes.

'Let's go then.'

*****

Your hands were tied tightly above your head, and there was a strip of tape over your mouth. A stinging sensation pulled your eyes shut, even as you tried to gauge your surroundings, but all you could see was blurred shapes and darkness. The smell of hay assaulted your nostrils, and you assumed you were being kept in a barn, or something similar, but you weren't getting out any time soon.

Weakness was all you could feel. You couldn't remember how long you'd been here, and you hadn't had anything to eat or drink for what felt like days. Under the tape, your lips felt dry, and you couldn't work up any saliva in your mouth.

The wound through your calf was deep, and you could feel it throbbing along the length of your leg, and you wondered if they'd left the pike in there after they'd taken you down. Blood loss wasn't at the top of your to-do list in this situation, and you knew that infection wouldn't be far behind if you were somewhere dirty.

Light assaulted your sore eyes, and you tried to move ineffectually against your bonds, as a figure crossed in front of you to approach your left side.

'Good morning, sweetheart.' The voice was unfamiliar, and you tried to see what they looked like, but your eyes hurt too much. A touch on your face made you flinch away, and the voice chuckled deeply. At least you knew it was a guy. 'You don't look like you're in good shape. I guess you're not as important to Crowley as we thought you'd be.'

You wanted to speak, wanted to shout and scream, demand answers. Why the hell did they want you to get to Crowley? You just did some dirty work for him – nothing that important. It didn't go beyond what you were already doing.

'Of course, we're not gonna kill you straight away. Give it a little more time. You'll die painfully. Like a hunter should.' There was a smile in his voice and it made your insides crawl to hear the truth from his lips. There wasn't any getting out of this – the only person who knew you were here was Crowley, and he wouldn't care if one little hunter snuffed it. You hadn't spoken to Jess in months, and you didn't associate with other hunters any more.

You were alone.

And that was apparently how you were going to die.

Good thing you were too dehydrated to cry. You wouldn't wanna give these SOB's the satisfaction.

'Poor thing.' The guy laughed loudly and it hurt your ears. You gave into the pull of the darkness, letting it take over, and you slipped into unconsciousness.

You hadn't dreamt in nearly a year. You hated dreaming, although you didn't remember why. All you knew was that you got the sedatives from Crowley, or whoever delivered them, and you slept without dreaming, or at least, without remembering the dreams.

But now, there wasn't anything in your system; nothing to hold it back. Green eyes and a chiselled jaw caught your attention, and he smiled at you, his arms looping around your waist softly, as he kissed your neck.

You were warm here, safe, and not alone. With him, you were never alone. With him, you could grab happiness.

Wasn't that what your mom always said?

These didn't feel like dreams. They felt like memories. Rolling around in the sheets at Bobby's, whispers of feelings that could only be admitted to in the dark. Fighting beside each other. The comfort he offered, and the love you gave him.

The pain from losing him.

He was dying, walking away, abandoning you.

And you could only scream for him.

'Dean!'

The name roused you from the fitful sleep you'd succumbed to, and you opened your still sore eyes, hearing gunshots. The dream you'd been having dissipated like melting ice, and you tried to push yourself up as a dead body landed in front of you. You couldn't see who or what it was, but there was red, so much red -

Strong hands grabbed you, pulling you free of your bonds, pulling the tape off, and then someone was touching you, but softly, like a lover's caress. You felt the urge to cry again, but you were too worn down. A bottle of water was pressed to your lips, and you'd never felt anything like the relief of the cold moisture coating your mouth, smothering your tongue and slipping down your torn up throat.

You pushed your eyes open, seeing hazel eyes and a mass of hair over you, a soft smile that promised safety and you let go once more.

This time there weren't any dreams.

*****

'She's waking up. You on your way back?'

The words were spoken by an unfamiliar voice and you groaned, pushing yourself up from the comfiest bed you'd slept on in months. You rubbed at your eyes, noting gratefully that they were no longer dry and sore. As you finally opened them, you saw the tall, long haired guy from before, smiling at you from the side of your bed.

'Y/N?'

'Hey.' You recognised him, but you couldn't quite place it. 'I...hunters?'

Why did he look so pained by that word? 'Yeah. I'm Sam.'

 _That_ was where you knew him from. You remembered briefly meeting as kids, but the details were fuzzy. 'Sam Winchester, right?' You cleared your throat, suddenly finding a glass of water held out to you. 'Thanks.' You croaked, accepting it and taking small sips. 'How did you find me?'

'Crowley tipped us off. Place was warded against him. Just some of Eve's creations trying to get revenge.' Sam smiled, taking the glass when you'd finished. 'What do you remember?'

You shook your head, still feeling cobwebs from a few days of captivity. 'I remember the hunt. Got ambushed. Woke up tied to that post -' you rotated your shoulders, still feeling a little stiff and sore from so long in bindings. 'And that's about it. Until you rescued me. Thanks for that. Seriously thought I was done for.'

Sam nodded, gesturing to your leg. 'Your leg was pretty bad. Infected. We've treated it, and bandaged you up. You should be okay after a few days of rest.'

'We?' You queried, not remembering seeing anyone else with him.

'Yeah. Me and my brother.'

He looked apprehensive as he said it, but you didn't pick up on it. 'Oh right.' Sam deflated a little as you pushed yourself further up the bed into a seated position, before pulling up the leg of the oversized sweatpants and checking your injury. As you were doing so, the door to the motel room opened and another tall man walked in, a paper bag of food shopping in his arms.

'You must be the brother.' You grinned. 'I'm Y/N.' The newcomer looked at you like he'd seen a ghost, and you frowned, glanced over at Sam who was watching his brother carefully. Wow. You knew other hunters were weird but this was just a whole new level. 'So, er, thanks for saving me?'

He didn't answer, stepping across the room with the bag of groceries, and you frowned at his back, before glancing to Sam, who smiled awkwardly before standing up. 'Dean?'

'What's wrong, Sam?' Dean answered, not turning around.

'Y/N is feeling a whole lot better. Maybe we should...talk?'

You raised an eyebrow. 'Talk? About what? You guys saved me, I'm grateful, but I should be okay from here. I mean, you killed them all right?'

'And then some.' Dean commented, turning around. His green eyes clashed with yours and you held your breath at just how fucking drop dead gorgeous he was, full on facing you. You didn't think you'd ever seen a man so handsome. Even his brother, who was pretty fit, didn't hold a candle. 'And you're right. You're alive, so we should go.' He moved his gaze to his brother.

'No.' Sam said, holding out a hand, palm down, as if he was trying to calm his brother. 'We're staying. Until she's completely fine.'

'No offence, guys, but I work alone. And I'm good from here.' You gave a nervous laugh, unsure of the atmosphere in the room. 'I mean, I know you two are legends and all, but I don't -'

'There's no point staying, Sam. She doesn't want me here, remember?' Dean seemed angry at you, and you immediately went on the defensive.

'Hey, come on buddy, I know we don't know each other, but there's no need to get ants in your pants. I mean, surely you don't wanna stick around here. You guys have bigger fish to fry from what I've heard.' You shrugged. 'Just seems like I'd be a bit of a waste of time.'

Sam shook his head. 'It's not that, it's just -'

'We don't know each other. That's what she said, Sam.' Dean's teeth ground together as he spoke, his fists clenching at his sides, and you saw that this guy was on edge. He was practically unhinged, and you suddenly wanted to...

No, that wasn't right.

You wanted to run. Straight to him and comfort him.

Where the hell did that come from?

'Seriously, I'm fine.' You said, as Sam continued to look at his brother. 'You guys can leave.'

'Dean, we can't -'

Dean slammed his hand down on the table top. 'We can, Sammy!' His brother stepped back. 'She wanted to forget and she forgot. So let's just go.'

'Wait.' You frowned. 'What did I forget?'

'Nothing. It doesn't matter.' Dean scowled, picking up his car keys. 'There's enough food there for a few days and painkillers. Take care.'

'No. Wait, wait.' You moved forward, yelping as you caught your leg and almost fell forward onto your face.

Dean was at your side in a second, his hands holding you steady, the touch of his bare skin on yours almost electrifying and you stared into those too fucking green eyes, the whisper of something in the back of your mind making you shudder.

'Do -' you licked your lips, taking a breath, smelling the whiskey and petrol smell on his jacket. 'Do we know each other?'

Sam shuffled in the background, as Dean released his hold on you, his chest heaving with unexpressed emotion as he took a step back, tearing his eyes away from yours as you reached for him.

'Dean -' You started, and he cut you off.

'Yes. We did. But not any more.' His voice dropped into a low rumble. 'Sam, we're going.'

'No -' You whispered, but Dean was already out the door. Sam walked past you, slipping you a card as he did so. 'Sam, I don't understand -'

'Speak to Crowley. Maybe he'll help.' Sam smiled sadly. 'My number is on there. Call me if you need anything. Be careful, Y/N.' He dropped a kiss to your forehead, before leaving the room, and you vaguely heard a car start outside before silence descended once more.

Sitting back on the bed, you stared at the number on the card, and the name.

You didn't understand what had just happened.

You needed answers.

 


	6. Part Six

_July 2012_

A hot summer night, following weeks without answers, found you in a bar, three sheets to the wind and talkin to an exceptionally attractive man by the name of Steven. He was taller than you, with dirty blonde hair, and brown eyes, and he was the muscled, all-American type, who didn't seem to have an awful lot between the ears, but it looked like he was gonna make up for it in other departments.

It didn't take long for him to suggest moving the conversation out of the bar, to your motel room, an idea that you readily agreed to. With his hands roaming all over your body, and his mouth covering yours with too-wet kisses, you lead him to your bed.

Your drunken state helped you move past all the things that your mind were screaming at you were wrong. Steven's hands were too clumsy, too chunky; the way he touched you was all wrong. He didn't caress your skin like he was touching a precious object – more like he was about to throw a football down a field. When he tried to adequately prepare you, his fingers were too calloused and rough, and he had no rhythm. You cried out anyway, simply for the intrusion of his digits into your wet skin. It was good for him that you were already aroused.

You went down on him, ignoring the taste, ignoring his meaty hands grabbing at your hair and pulling you closer. He was big enough to slam into the back of your throat, your gag reflex making you heave a little, but you were too drunk to care, sucking and licking at him as he made noises like a goddamn caveman. He didn't do dirty talk – you doubted he had the eloquence for it – but right now, you didn't care. He didn't come in your mouth, and you were glad for that; he pushed you onto your hands and knees and entered you roughly from behind, not even giving you time to adjust to his width before he was slamming into you with a sloppy rhythm, no better than the one he'd used with his fingers.

When he came, it was without caring for your satisfaction, and he held himself deep in your body as he finished, leaving you hot and bothered, not even close to orgasm, before he rolled to the side, panting and praising your body.

You kicked him out pretty quickly after that.

It was amazing how much you could sober up, even if you had downed nearly an entire bottle of Jack, when you felt so empty inside. You hadn't even given it thought the last year but you knew you were just going through the motions. Something had been taken away from you, and you couldn't help but think it had something to do with Dean Winchester. His green eyes, that hurt, broken gaze...it haunted you.

And you hadn't been able to track Crowley down.

You dragged yourself into a hot shower, sitting in the tray with your arms wrapped around your knees, sobbing into your wet skin, as cum and sweat washed away from your body. You scrubbed every inch of yourself until your skin was red raw, and then scrubbed some more.

Slipping into an old pair of flannel pyjamas, you crawled into bed, your eyes tired and sore, and slept.

You dreamt of a house, and a black car, and rock music playing in the background; a warm embrace and a soft bed, and the feeling of being loved.

*****

A hand stroking your forehead made you wake up sharply, and you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, looking up to see a dark figure looming over you. The hand moved away from your face, and you squinted, trying to figure out who it was.

'You don't look so good, Y/N.' Crowley's voice drawled as he moved away from the bed, fixing you a glass of water and some aspirin, bringing it over. 'Drink this.'

'Whu-what?' You sat up, wiping at your face before taking the drink. 'What are you doing here?'

'You called me.' He said simply, sitting down on the bed with an indistinguishable expression on his face. 'And I'll admit, I was worried.'

'I've been calling you for three weeks, Crowley.' You replied, frowning over the glass of water. You drank it down, swallowing the tablets quickly, hoping they'd get to work on your hangover. 'So you couldn't have been that worried.'

'I was...otherwise occupied. I checked in, but you were uninjured. How are your ribs?'

'I'm fine. All healed up. Even took a break from hunting.' You shifted in the bed, feeling the sheets bunch around your waist. You felt like shit, and you dreaded to think how you looked. 'But I needed to talk to you about something. About the Winchesters.'

'Ah.' He nodded, standing up again, almost as if he was uncomfortable. You followed him with your eyes, the frown still firmly in place on your face.

'Something was...weird. It was like I knew Dean but...I've never met him before in my life. I met Sam when we were kids, but Dean wasn't there.' Crowley didn't answer, and suspicion grew in your mind. 'I mean, there was this...connection or something. Everything about him is so familiar, and then there's the dreams.'

'Dreams?'

Crowley looked concerned as you nodded, locking your eyes with his. 'Yeah. Like, I'm living with someone. And I'm happy. Loved. And then it all...I see him leave, or die, or something.' You rubbed a hand against your temple, shutting your eyes slowly. 'Why did you send them to save me, Crowley?'

'Because I couldn't do it myself. Place was warded against demons.' He shrugged the question off, but you knew that wasn't it.

'I'm a hunter. You shouldn't give a shit either way.'

'You're a useful ally.' He was playing with a generic photo on the wall now, and you pulled the covers back, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing, despite the discomfort in your limbs. 'Nothing more than that, I assure you. You're just very good at what you do.'

You approached him, knowing he was avoiding something, and placed your hand on his shoulder. 'You're not telling me something. Why did you ignore me for three weeks? Why send the Winchesters when I know there's others out there that could do the job? You could have tapped any hunter, anyone else on your books to do the job. Or you could have just let me die.'

He turned to you, his face stone as he listened. 'No. That wasn't an option. I was not going to let you die.'

'But why?' Your voice was rising in level, almost hysterical.

Crowley pushed you off, his face flushed red with anger. Or something else, you weren't quite sure, but your emotions were spiralling, mostly due to the horrendous hangover you were suffering with. 'Because I couldn't! The Winchesters, despite being plaid wearing nightmares, are the _best_. And I knew that they would be the best chance of getting you out alive!' He seemed so worked up, and you didn't know why. 'It was too close as it was.' He marched over to the kitchenette table, picking up a green bag. 'Sedatives, painkillers and something to prevent any occurrence from your stupid little dalliance last night. Start using protection, Y/N, before you end up having some random truckers baby.'

Your mouth fell open in shock, and you snatched the bag from him, slapping him around the face. 'Get out.'

His hand went to his cheek, and he narrowed his eyes. 'I'll be touch.'

'Fuck you.'

Your words addressed thin air, because Crowley had already gone.

*****

You found a case just outside of New Jersey, and it didn't take much for you to be on the road. Your Camero had bitten the dust back in May, and you were currently driving an old truck, dark blue and nice and inconspicuous. It also had the biggest trunk you'd ever possessed; plenty of room for a hidden compartment filled with guns.

Once you were on the road, you tried calling Bobby, deciding to let him know where you were for a change. He didn't answer, so you left a message, and by nightfall, you were pulling into a Motel 6, deciding against finding an abandoned house or sleeping in the truck. Hot showers were all the range lately, and you weren't against finding a hot meal at the diner opposite the motel.

Your phone rang just as you booked in, and you smiled at the clerk holding your fake credit card, before heading out of the office towards your room, answering as you went. The screen flashed up with Bobby's number, and you smiled as you greeted him.

'Hey, Bobby!'

The voice on the other end of the phone was definitely _not_ Bobby Singer. 'Hey, Y/N. It's, er, it's Sam.'

You paused, key in the door of the room you'd been given. 'Hi Sam.' Your mood darkened a little, and you let yourself into the room, turning the light on and throwing your bag onto the double bed. 'Where's Bobby?'

'Erm, yeah, I need to, er -'

He was stuttering, and you frowned. 'Spit it out, Sam.'

'Bobby died.' His voice was distant and something thudded into your stomach as your legs gave way. You slumped onto the bed, and the room fuzzed around you. Sam was saying something about Leviathans, Dick Roman, and something else, but you couldn't hear him until he started calling your name.

'I'm still here.'

'Where are you?'

'I-I was heading up to a case just outside of New Jersey. There's what looks like a ghoul problem.' You pinched the bridge of your nose. 'Bobby...Bobby's gone?'

'Yeah. I'm sorry you had to hear it like this.'

'No, it's okay. I mean – well, it's not okay, it _sucks_ ,' you cut off, inhaling sharply to prevent the tears from falling, 'Bobby was like a dad to so many of us...he was...and now he's...'

'Yeah, I know.' Sam sounded awful, like he was going through it as much as you were. 'We're gonna get the guy that killed him, Y/N. We will.'

You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. 'Good. Are you okay?' You paused. 'You and Dean?'

There was a smile in his voice when he answered this time, and you heard a voice in the background. Your stomach did a funny little flip. 'We're getting there. Slowly. Just focusing on the job.'

'Good. Good.' You weren't sure what else to say, and you sighed. 'I better...I gotta go.'

'Sure. We'll touch base with you soon, okay?'

'Yeah.' You hung up, staring at the phone in your hand for a long while before you managed to get up off the bed, leaving the motel to head for the diner. You weren't hungry, but you should probably try and eat before you got some sleep. You'd fallen prey to your own lack of self-preservation before, and you'd been drinking more than your face share of alcohol, so eating properly was at least one thing you could manage.

Sitting amongst families and normal people, you ate in silence, smiling at your server as she brought you a fresh coffee. Staring down at the reflection of the lights in the dark liquid, you didn't know you weren't alone until he spoke.

'At least you're eating.'

You jumped, spilling coffee on your hand as you glared up at your companion. Crowley smiled sweetly, picking up a napkin and mopping up the spill.

'What do you want?' You spat, still pissed at him for the last time he'd popped in on you.

His smile faded a little, before he leant forward. 'You're on a job? Ghouls in New Jersey?' You nodded, folding your arms as you sat back, the rest of your meal untouched. 'Should be an easy one.' He commented and you narrowed your eyes.

'Yeah, and?'

'Well, I was wondering if you fancied doing a little job for me. Once you're done with the ghouls. It's a safe one. Nice and simple.'

'Right. And what do I get out of it?'

'In case you forgot, you do work for me. We have a deal.' He looked a little irritated at your reluctance, and you leant forward.

'That's the thing, Crowley. I know that. And I didn't question it for months. Yet, now I find myself asking, why did I make a deal with you? Because I remember agreeing, but I don't remember what for.' You kept your eyes on him, hoping to make him squirm, but he just chuckled, raising his hand to order a coffee from the server.

'I'm not at liberty to discuss that.'

'Says who?'

'Says you, sweetheart.' He gave a charming grin to the server, who wandered away blushing at the attention from a handsome English gentleman in his expensive tailored suit. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head a little.

'Well if I said no talking about it, then I can retract that rule.'

'Not how it works.'

'Why?'

'Because I said so.'

'Goddamn it, Crowley, what the hell is your problem?' You hissed, grabbing the table, your temper dangerously close to snapping. A lady at the diner bar turned to look at you because of the noise, and you gritted your teeth, lowering your voice. 'I know it has something to do with Dean. Did I know him? Did I ask to forget him? Why the hell would I do that?'

'Obviously you have an inkling. But I can't tell you what you dealt with me for.' He raised an eyebrow. 'That would break the deal, and I rather enjoy keeping you around.'

'For what?' You scoffed, picking up your coffee. 'I'm a hunter.'

'Not just any hunter.' He reminded, mimicking your actions in picking up his drink. 'You're one of the best. It's why I sent the best to save your arse from those...whatever they were.'

You frowned. 'I still don't get why you did that. I mean, you got a crush on me or something?' You spoke just as he sipped at his drink, and he coughed, spluttering a little on the drink and your eyes went wide. 'Seriously?'

Crowley shrugged, looking anywhere but you. 'You're a very attractive woman, Y/N. I mean, it's not hard to see what -' He stopped, clearing his throat and placing his cup back on the table as you watched him carefully, coffee in your hands. 'It's not hard to see what other men see in you.' It was obvious that wasn't what he was originally going to say. 'What was that last one you picked up?'

You scowled. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Maybe I do.'

'Get lost, Crowley.'

'Nope. Need to discuss this job.' He leant over the table, swiping a chip from your unfinished plate. 'I heard about Bobby Singer. My condolences. I know you were close once.' You locked your eyes on his, making it clear you didn't want to talk about that either. 'Anyway, the job I have is a smash and grab. Warded case in a museum. Biblical era piece of stone. I would like you to get it for me.'

'Right? And if I do this, you tell me what I did the deal with you for.' You didn't let it hang as a question, and Crowley sighed heavily.

'I'll consider it. Are you in or out?'

You mulled it over, your eyes dropping back to your drink. It wasn't the agreement you wanted from him, but you'd find a way to get the truth. 'I'm in.'

When you looked up, he'd done his disappearing act, leaving his coffee sat on the table. Your phone bleeped and you pulled it out, looking at the message.

_**Historical Museum Of Oregon. The item in question is on floor two, in a glass case. One aged security guard. No alarms on the case. Good luck, pet. Crowley xxx** _

Kisses? Really? You arched an eyebrow at the message, before your phone bleeped again and the picture came through. It was of a hunk of rock with chicken scratch on it. You weren't sure exactly what it was supposed to be, but you'd get it anyway.

You needed to know the truth.

*****

You'd never run so fast in your life. “One aged security guard” had turned out to be two burly men with attitudes to match their biceps, and you'd had to smash the case, grab the rock and throw yourself out of a two storey window. Your arm carried a nice deep gash, and you were fairly certain you'd done some fresh damage to the previous injury on your calf, and if it hadn't been for the lovely evergreen shrub that broke your fall, you'd guess you'd probably have a broken neck to add to the collection.

And that would have turned out _really_ well.

By the time you'd gotten back to your truck, the guards had lost you, and it took you all of five seconds to climb in, get the engine going and speed off into the night, the hunk of rock sitting on the passenger seat. There was no one to spot you, and you'd be ridiculously careful going into the museum.

It wasn't hard to wire a security system when they had shitty network protection.

Once you were back at your motel, you showered, cleaning up your injuries. The gash on your arm didn't require stitches but you were in a pretty foul mood. You pulled on your jeans and a shirt, intent on calling Crowley and giving him a piece of your mind over the shitty intel, but as soon as you picked up the rock from your bed, the room span.

You found yourself sitting, in an empty restaurant, a _posh_ one at that, with a glass of wine in front of you. Your jeans and shirt had been replaced with an elegant dress, and you looked up as the door opened. Crowley walked in and you immediately tensed up, ignoring the smile he sent your way.

'You look beautiful.' He commented, and you narrowed your eyes in his direction, keeping your mouth shut as he sat down opposite you. A waiter appeared out of nowhere, pouring him a glass of wine. 'Thank you. We'll take the starters now.'

'Crowley...what the hell is this?' You found your voice.

'This is me, congratulating you on a job well done.' He picked up the napkin, unfolding it as he looked over at you. 'I hardly imagine you get treated like this very often, and I rarely have company I wish to share a meal with.'

'You're a demon. You don't _need_ to eat.'

He tilted his head, one eyebrow arched in agreement. 'True enough. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the taste of food now, does it?'

You scowled, just as the waiter brought through two bowls of soup, and a basket of bread, placing it in front of the both of you. Casting your gaze over the food, you noticed the soup was tomato – your favourite, if a little bland to taste normally – and it smelt delicious. Your stomach growled, reminding you of the missed meals you'd had today.

Crowley heard the noise, and smiled. 'Hungry?'

'It's the only reason I'm still sitting here.' You replied, keeping it safe. Probably better he didn't get the wrong idea. He sniffed, still smiling as he picked up the soup spoon and tasted the food. Reluctantly, you did the same, closing your eyes at the explosion of taste when the soup touched your tongue. A moan escaped your throat, unbidden and unwanted, and your eyes snapped open, just in time to see Crowley's smile go from charming to smug.

'I thought you might like it.' He clicked his fingers at the waiter, who left the room, and you huffed a little, trying not to show you were enjoying the food too much. 'You know, Y/N, I've watched you for a long time. You were...sorry, you _are_ , vastly different to other hunters. And it seems like you have a knack for picking men who don't treat you...' He paused, watching as you took another mouthful of spoon, reaching out to grab a piece of bread. You were hungry enough that you could probably stuff an entire piece in your mouth, but you held onto some composure, purely because...well, you were wearing a nice dress (maybe not one you would have chosen) and the restaurant was pretty upscale. No sense looking like an animal. 'Without being too presumptuous, like the queen you are.'

You swallowed the mouthful of bread and soup, looking at Crowley in bewilderment. 'Queen? Crowley...I...'

'Yes, yes, I know, mock me for having a “crush” on you.' He made air quotes with his fingers as you watched him closely. 'But I assure you, it is much more than a crush. I have come to care for you, in the course of your...aid. You are a very attractive woman, Y/N. As well as intelligent, witty, and an exceptional fighter.'

You put the spoon down, using the napkin to wipe at your mouth. 'Crowley, I'm really flattered but -' You sighed. 'I'm just not interested.'

'I thought that might be the case.' He smiled, a tinge of sadness to it. 'But at least you didn't use the “I'm a demon” excuse.'

'Well, there is that.' You winced, knowing how it sounded. 'We're supposed to be enemies. I mean, I don't even know why I did that deal with you in the first place, seeing as I supposedly told you not to tell me.'

Crowley nodded, picking up his wine and sipping at it. 'How about, I do you a new deal?'

'A new deal?' You sat back, assessing the situation.

'One that no longer requires you to work for me.' He tipped his head.

'I'm listening.'

Crowley smiled, shifting in his seat and placing the wine glass down. 'Give me tonight. Dinner. That's all I ask. The pleasure of your company.' He wasn't finished, and you remained silent. 'One kiss. And I will release you from the previous deal and tell you what it was you wanted to forget.'

'And what about my memories?'

'You can decide whether you want those back in due time.' You narrowed your eyes again, suspicious of his intent. You weren't bothered about the kiss – a doormat would realise that Crowley was handsome, despite being a demon – but you didn't understand why this deal was so...simple. He picked up on your apprehension, clearing his throat a little. 'I know you're wondering why I am being so generous. As I said before...I've come to care for you a great deal, Y/N. And I do wish to see you hurt. That is why I contacted the Winchesters, despite my general dislike of them, I knew they were the best to save you. That is why I am doing this. I simply wish for you to see...' He stopped, smiling tightly. 'Well. You will. But I wouldn't force a woman into my company. The decision is yours.'

You nodded, looking down at the delicious bowl of soup, contemplating the odds that this would turn out to be a double cross. Eventually, curiosity beat everything else in your head and you took a breath, looking up at the demon opposite you and nodding your head again.

'Deal.'

 


	7. Part Seven

You hated that you were enjoying Crowley's company. He'd asked, once the deal had been made, if the hunter and demon thing could be put aside for the rest of the evening. You'd agreed, and the both of you had finished your soup.

He'd asked you the usual date-type questions, ones you were fairly certain he knew the answers to, but you smiled and gave him a response to each enquiry, and by the time that the main course came to the table, the conversation was flowing, both of you sharing stories and laughing. For now, it was like a normal date, not that you'd had one of those in a long time, and Crowley was pleasant company.

'So, the play is going horribly wrong, and I'm just stood there, covered in paint, with a destroyed backdrop behind me and Romeo is literally crying on the floor.' You chuckled, and Crowley laughed with you.

'That might be a rendition of Romeo and Juliet I'd have actually enjoyed.' He gestured to your plate. 'Are you enjoying the steak?'

'I am. Just how I like it. You made good guesses.' You paused, cutting off another piece of meat. 'Although, I'm supposing they weren't entirely guesses?'

Crowley smiled. 'No, they weren't. I cheated; but I do have the upper hand on most men.' He picked at his salad, his eyes mostly on you. 'Wait until you see the dessert. My chef has worked very hard.'

'Your chef?' You gestured to the kitchen, before swallowing your mouthful. 'This is your restaurant.'

'I have...some human interests. Besides, it's good to have the odd cover.' He smiled. 'But no more shop talk. I've got a rather amusing story about a play gone wrong myself. A little further in the past mind you.'

He continued to talk and you continued to listen, laughing at his tales, and finding yourself enjoying the evening more and more. Crowley was intelligent, funny, and captivating.

But you knew, and you suspected he did as well, that this was all in vain. Crowley was a nice guy, beneath all the demon exterior, but he was still the King Of Hell, and besides that, you could never feel for him the way you felt...

About who exactly?

The dessert, as Crowley promised, was a mouthwatering selection of profiteroles, covered in the richest Belgian chocolate sauce you'd ever tasted. He watched you, a strange look on his face as you ate one, your eyes closing in pleasure at the taste.

'Good aren't they?'

'Yeah.' You groaned, eating another one.

'I must say, Y/N, this is one of the most pleasant evenings I've experienced in over three hundred years.' You nodded, not making eye contact. 'But you're not...this is not going as I would like.' His smile was tight and you put your fork down, sighing.

'It's been lovely.' You started. 'But I...I don't...I'm really sorry.'

'At least you are honest.' He smiled again, leaning forward to pat your hand. 'And thank you for indulging me. But you want to know what you asked to forget.' You nodded, dessert forgotten as he leant back, releasing your hand. 'You were hurting when we made the deal. You hadn't looked after yourself and you were...for lack of a better term, you were ill. Drinking too much, eating too little -'

'I haven't exactly been a modicum of self respect lately.' You muttered, feeling a little ashamed.

Crowley nodded. 'And I don't wish to make it worse. That is why I want you to take some time, once I've told you, to decide whether you want those memories back.' Your eyes met his, and his mouth set into a thin line as you waited. 'You asked me, to forget that you ever met Dean Winchester.'

Silence filled the large room, and you sank into your seat a little more, somehow unsurprised by the answer. The question on your lips was begging to be asked, but you held back, as Crowley sighed heavily, before standing.

'I will return you to your motel room. And your regular clothes.' He smiled, a little sadly, as he bent down, placing his hand underneath your chin to lift your eyes to his. 'We have one more condition to fulfil.' You nodded, a little dumbly as he bent further, pressing his lips to yours. He was gentle, and not demanding like you'd thought he would be, and you closed your eyes, letting him take what you'd agreed on.

When the kiss finished, he stood up, his thumb stroking over your cheek. 'I'm sorry, Crowley.'

'I know. And it is a shame...' He shrugged. 'You win some, you lose some. Now, get some sleep, think over what you want. Don't rush. Speak to Sam if need be.' Crowley's grin became wistful. 'Dean Winchester does not deserve you, in my opinion. But it is not my decision to make. Call me when you have made it.'

The restaurant disappeared, and you were back in your motel room, back in your regular clothes, and the room was colder than you'd remembered. Sighing and looking over at the table, you saw a foil swan sat there, a note on it. You stood, heading over to the swan, frowning as you picked up the note.

_**These shouldn't go to waste x Crowley** _

You smiled, finding yourself growing fond of the man, despite your better judgement. But you had a decision to make, and you needed help. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you typed in Sam Winchester's name, firing off a quick text to him.

_Hey, where are you?_

It buzzed less than ten seconds later, and you read the message.

_North of Twin Falls, Idaho. What's up?_

You typed quickly. _I have some information that I need your help with. I'll drive to you. Should only be a day or so._

_Okay, Y/N. See you soon. Drive safe._

You turned, packing up your bag. The sooner you got on the road the better. As you headed for the door, you smiled, grabbing the foil swan to take with you.

Nothing like a snack for the road.

*****

You didn't seem to be able to catch a break recently. You could only assume you'd pissed off some kind of deity to be cursed with bad luck.

The storm raged hard outside the car, and you knew you had to stop. The road ahead was flooding, but there were no motels in sight. It was a decision that needed to be made quickly, before you ended up neck deep in water, and it wasn't like you didn't have supplies in the backseat of the truck. You pulled onto a side road, finding a relatively sheltered spot and parking up, wincing as a particularly loud clap of thunder struck, lightning lighting up the surrounding woods.

You locked the doors and grabbed your phone, noticing that you had less than half battery left. With a grimace, you shot off a quick text to Sam, letting him know that you'd parked up until the storm passed. Then you climbed into the backseat, digging around for the thick Afghan blanket you'd had for years, before wrapping yourself in it.

You fell into an easy sleep with the sound of the rain on the roof of the car, never hearing your phone vibrating it's way onto the floor of the truck, Sam's name flashing across the screen. Dreams came to you, and you remembered another storm, but this one had warm arms surrounding you, and Dean's green eyes haunted you again. You heard his voice, telling you it would pass, it would be okay. It wasn't like you to be scared of a storm, but if he made him hold you that close, you'd play on it.

Glass shattering pulled you from your sleep, and you opened your eyes to see the storm still raging in the dark, and strong arms pulling you from the car, your legs becoming wet from the rain. Sharp shards from the broken window dug into your flesh, leaving deep gashes along your side as you kicked and fought against your attackers with little success.

'Got ya, bitch.' The voice was low and threatening, and you tried to see who your antagonists were. Lightning crashed through the sky, showing their black eyes and you fought harder, even as they held you up in the pouring rain. Your clothes were soaked, blood seeping through the fabric from the damage the glass had caused, and your hair stuck to your forehead. One of the demons landed a punch to your face, and you felt your eye swell in response. There were at least five of them, all men, two holding your arms, one behind you and two in front, taking turns in landing blows to your weakening body.

'Who the fuck are you?' You gasped out, tasting the rain water on your skin mingling with the coppery taste of blood. Thunder crashed, and the sky lit up again, showing the demon that had just hit you. He was soaked too, but the evil, inhuman grin on his face wasn't one you'd seen before. His black eyes, fathomless pools of hatred, focused on you and you tried to pull away from your captors.

'We're here to deliver a message.' The demon behind the one speaking pulled a knife from his belt, pushing his comrade out of the way.

'What message?'

The demon grinned as he held the knife against your cheek. 'It's not one you really say.' You gritted your teeth as the knife bit into your cheek, but he pulled it away, lowering it out of your sight. 'You're a distraction. And we're here to rectify that.' You gasped in shock as a pain shot through your torso, and the demon grinned widely, pulling the knife from where he'd slipped it between your ribs and into your lung. Blood bubbled in your throat and dribbled from the corner of your mouth as you stared at him wide-eyed. 'Goodnight, hunter bitch.'

They released you, letting you fall to the floor, and you splashed into a puddle, desperately trying to breathe as the strength wilted from your body. You looked down, seeing red spread through the puddle you'd landed in, the rain filling your eyes and nose. Turning your head to the side, you wondered if you'd drown in blood or rain water first.

' _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,'_ The voice was so far away, you barely heard it at first, your blurring vision seeing the demons' legs as they moved away, before your ears picked up the sound of pounding feet in the half-flooded road. ' _O_ _mnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,_  
 _omnis congregatio et secta diabolica,'_ There were two voices now, and the demons started to yell. One of them burst into yellow light, but the lightning crashed around you again, and you felt your eyes drift close. All you could hear was thunder and the rain hitting your blood soaked skin.

You were so tired. Just a little sleep. That was all you needed.

Strong hand pulled at your body, lifting you from the muddy puddle, brushing your hair from your face, and you heard more voices. It didn't matter though, they could let you sleep for a bit.

'Y/N.'

Someone was calling your name. Couldn't they just let you rest? It was rude to wake people up.

'Y/N.'

Dean never let you sleep in any more. He was always bugging you to get out to go hunt. Sometimes you thought he liked killing things way too much. Of course, the world _was_ ending.

'She's still got a heartbeat. But she's losing too much blood.' New voice. They sounded a little desperate. You moaned, trying to convey your displeasure at being awoken. That nice numbing sensation of floating was surrounding you, and you just wanted to let it in.

'Castiel!' Someone screamed, sounding so agonised that you frowned a little, trying to crack your eyes. You weren't sure where you were, but you knew you could hear the sound of rain. You always liked falling asleep to that. 'Cas!'

'Dean!'

Hmmm, Dean's here. Your mind settled and you knew you could sleep safely here. Dean was safe. Dean was home. You didn't really remember why.

Your heart rate fell, and someone was crying. 'You have to help her.'

'Her heart is slowing.'

'Save her, Cas!'

'Save who?'

'Y/N! She's fucking bleeding to death here.'

'There's two of her.'

 _There isn't two of me._ You felt warmth on your skin, and light filled your closed eyes. _Oh, I really want to sleep._ Something felt like it was crumbling in your head, and you remembered something. He'd kissed your stomach, told you he'd loved you, but it hadn't been _real_. Dean always let you sleep in on a Sunday, because he knew you liked being wrapped up in his arms.

He'd cried too much because he'd lost Sam.

And then he cried because he lost you.

He was crying now.

_I just want to sleep._

Everything went quiet.

*****

Dean hadn't slept in two days. You were laying on the bed in the cabin's only bedroom, and you hadn't moved in at least that long. He'd told Sam when you hadn't replied within a few minutes, and hadn't picked up when he called, that it was unlike you, and practically forced him out the door.

He'd only forgone the “told ya so” aimed at his little brother because he was too busy killing demons and rescuing you. Not that it seemed to have done much good. Castiel had half-healed you, before flitting out of there like the friggin' crazy he'd turned into, muttering something about you being in two pieces, and ignoring Dean's shouts for him to get his feathery ass back to them.

But you were back from the brink, breathing and slowly healing. Most of the shallow gashes from where they'd dragged you out of the truck had sealed up, and your lung wasn't punctured anymore, judging by the lack of blood when you breathed, and also the very fact that you were breathing in the first place. But you weren't out of the woods, not until you woke up.

He'd always worried about you being in danger with him, but it looked like you were just as likely to attract trouble without him too. If only you remembered that.

There was no apparent reason for the attack, other than the fact that you were a hunter. But they must have been following you, considering there was nothing around for miles. Dean and Sam had only managed to find you by tracking the number you'd been using, and it was only luck that got them there in time.

With a yawn, Dean eyed the space next to you on the bed. You were on your back, head to the side, one arm over your chest and the other by your side. He wondered if he could get away with a couple of hours next to you, and if you'd wake up and punch him.

He didn't really care if you did.

As long as you woke up.

Half an hour later, when Sam opened the door to ask if Dean was hungry, he found his brother on his side in the bed next to you, one arm over your stomach and his face buried in your neck. He smiled at the scene, and then left.

*****

You heard a soft voice, singing, and felt the warm covers around you, accompanied with an even warmer arm, and a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. The voice was singing a song you vaguely remembered, and you listened for a moment, enjoying the sound.

 _'Take your time, don't live too fast. Troubles will come and they will pass. Go find a woman, and you'll love. And don't forget son, there is someone up above_. _'_

Sleep slowly left your heavy limbs, leaving some discomfort behind, but you could only assume you'd been a little banged up on a hunt. You'd never woken up to Dean's singing before, but it was something you'd gladly repeat. You snuggled into him, and his voice halted in the chorus.

'Y/N?' You opened your eyes, seeing his green ones looking down at you. 'You're awake.'

'Have been for a few minutes.' You yawned. 'You never sing to me.'

He scooted down to your level, pulling you in close, kissing you deeply and you were too startled to response for a second, before you relaxed into his embrace. He broke the kiss abruptly, his cheeks beet red. 'Sorry. I just... '

You frowned, restarting the caress, desperate to taste him. It felt like it had been so long, like you'd been asleep for a _really_ long time. Dean tried to speak, and you scowled, pulling away for a split second. 'Would you just shut up and kiss me?' He stared at you, wide eyed, before you pulled him in again, ignoring the sting of pain from whatever injury you'd picked up. 'Fuck, Dean, I need you, baby.'

'Y/N, I can't -'

'You can't what?' You asked, pulling back, feeling his arousal pressed into your leg through the denim of his pants. That was odd. Dean usually slept naked. 'Wait, why are you wearing clothes? You don't -'

It came rushing back like a waterfall of memories, and you pushed away from him so quickly that you fell straight out of the bed and onto the floor, shrieking in pain as you reopened half a dozen cuts, and knocked a few bruises. The demons, the rain, the _deal_.

'Fuck.' Dean's curse was followed by his feet hitting the floor and he practically skidded around the bed to be at your side, helping you up so you were sitting on the mattress. His hands scoured your injuries, making sure you hadn't done too much damage. A few of them were bleeding, but not to an extent he was going to be worried about, not now you were awake. Your stomach rumbled, and you chose to focus on that, rather than the mess in your head.

'How long have I been out?' You asked, holding your belly.

'About two and a half days.' Dean muttered, double checked a stinging gash on your side. That must have been where the demon had stabbed you. You should have been dead.

'How...'

'Cas.' Dean offered. 'He didn't do a full job.'

'I remember...' Your voice was lower than a whisper on the breeze and Dean looked up, green eyes shining as you regarded him, your expression neutral. 'I made a deal with Crowley. To forget you. Because...it hurt...and I couldn't...couldn't cope...' A tear escaped your eyes, and you wiped at them furiously, unsure whether you were angry at yourself, or Dean, or everything else.

His hand came up to cup your face. 'Hey...hey...' He pressed his lips to your forehead. 'Try not to think about it for now. Let's just get you something to eat and drink, make sure you're all okay, right? We'll deal with the other issues later.' You nodded, and Dean smiled, taking your hand. 'For the record...I missed you.'

'I missed you too.' You whispered, knowing that despite not remembering him, you had yearned for him. Suddenly, the thought of all the men you'd taken home in the past year came back to you, and you felt like throwing up.

Or rather, did throw up.

There wasn't much in your stomach, and Dean held your hair back as you dry heaved into a bin, tears mixing with the bile in your throat. When you were completely done, he removed the bin, still rubbing your back.

'I don't know whether to apologise or be angry at you.' You confessed.

'Sssh.' He pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 'I told you. Food first, then we'll talk.'

You nodded, letting him guide you to your feet. You felt wobbly and disorientated, and fuck, things hurt. But Dean had you, and for the time being, you were content for him to never let you go.

 


	8. Part Eight

It didn't take long to decide on an easy breakfast, and you were more interested in drinking water than food. After nearly three days sleeping, you felt dried up and exhausted. Dean didn't pressure you to talk, instead sitting you down at the table with a large glass of cold water, whilst he prepared you a simple meal of eggs and toast.

You'd forgotten how good of a cook he was.

Seemed you'd forgotten a lot of things.

Everything in your head was a jumbled mess, but you understood now that whatever Crowley had done to remove your memories, Castiel had undone, whilst trying to heal you. You didn't quite understand what had happened to the angel, why he hadn't healed you fully, and it was one of the questions you wanted to ask.

But instead, you sat quietly, smiling at Sam as he slipped into the room from outside and joined you at the table.

'Breakfast, Sammy?' Dean offered from the little kitchen, the eggs hissing in the pan as he flipped them.

'Sounds great.' Sam smiled, looking over at you, concern in his big hazel eyes. 'How you feeling, Y/N?'

'I'm awake.' You replied, quietly, your hands folded underneath the table. 'Thanks, Sam. For – for saving me out there.'

He waved a hand dismissively. 'It's nothing. Dean was the one who insisted we come get you. Said it wasn't like you to not answer a phone call or reply to a text. I've never seen him push the car so hard.' You nodded, unsure what to say to him, but the next question was unavoidable. 'What do you remember?'

'Erm...the rain. A storm. Demons.' You winced. 'Everything.' You'd never spoken such a loaded word in your life, and Dean came over with two full plates of food just as Sam's eyes widened.

'Oh. _Oh_.' He looked up at his brother, who's mouth was set in a thin line as he retreated to collect his own food. 'Your memories came back?' You nodded, picking up your fork and stabbing at the egg gently. Sunny side up. He'd remembered exactly how you liked them. And the toast wasn't more than crispy, a generous spreading of butter over the top of the slice.

You'd chosen to forget that he knew all these things.

How could you be so stupid?

'Good?' Dean asked, hesitant of your answer, and you smiled at him, feeling tears prick at your eyes. He smiled back, before tucking into his own food.

You decided on a safer subject than the return of your memories, taking a small mouthful of egg. 'Did...did you bring my truck?'

Sam nodded, swallowing his mouthful of food. 'Yeah. I drove it back. That thing is a beast.'

A smile touched at your lips again. 'Handy though. Unless, you know, you're being hunted by demons.' The joke fell flat, and Dean shuddered a little. You scowled at your plate, cursing your own stupidity. 'She's easy to handle though, right?'

Sam nodded, his mouth too full to answer. Dean cleared his throat, cutting up his toast as if it had wronged him in some fashion. 'I put some plastic over the window. As soon as we get a chance, I'll take it to a garage and get that window replaced. All of yours things were wet, so Sam dried them out for you.'

'Oh. Thanks.' You tried to make eye contact with him but it wasn't happening, and you sagged a little into your seat. The three of you settled into an awkward silence, before Sam finished his food and excused himself. Soon after, Dean stood up, picking up his plate and his brother's.

'I'm just gonna go and wash up, okay? Do you want a shower after? It might ease some of the discomfort.'

You nodded, smiling up at him as he took your unfinished food, the look on his face indicating that he was worried you hadn't finished, but wasn't going to press the issue. As he left the room, your eyes flew to the front door, and you decided to check and see what the damage to the truck was.

Stepping outside in your sleep shorts and t-shirt, bare feet and all, you shivered in the cold Montana morning air, before looking around. The cabin seemed pretty isolated, and you spotted your truck immediately. Walking around, you saw Dean's handiwork on the window, and you ran your fingers over the tape. There were specks of dried blood on the paintwork, stubbornly staying there despite the rain, and you felt a lump in your throat.

'Y/N.'

You jumped at the intrusion, spinning to see Crowley staring at you in concern. As he took in your dishevelled and half-dressed appearance, your injuries clear to see, he stepped forward and you flinched, unsure of the situation.

'Y/N, I won't hurt you.' He drew closer, reaching out to take hold of your arm, seeing a nasty gash there from the window. 'What happened?'

'D-demons.' You stuttered, more from the cold than anything. 'Group of them came after me. Surprised me when I was asleep.' You looked down, not meeting his darkened gaze. 'Said it was a message, but I don't know what they meant by that.'

Crowley's fingers were warm on your arm as he shook his head. 'It was a message for me. Discontent amongst the peons.'

'They hurt me to get to you?'

He smiled, but it was without warmth, without mirth. It was a dangerous and calculating smirk, and you wondered if he'd find the demons responsible. 'It appears my feelings have been made public, and in doing so, I have placed you in danger.' He sighed. 'For the second time no less.'

'I remember everything.' You said suddenly. 'Cas -'

'Did a piss poor job of fixing you up, I'm guessing. He's off his rocker, so I'm not surprised.' He reached up, brushing a hand down your cheek, smiling, and this time it was the smile you were used to seeing. 'Close your eyes. I'll finish the job that the broken angel started.' You nodded, obeying, and heat spread through your veins, sealing every cut, and taking away the pain.

Dean's voice made your eyes snap open again, and Crowley moved away from you as if burned. 'What the hell are you doing here?' The hunter growled at the demon, his eyes narrowed, and his gun in his hand. You turned, pushing your hands against his chest, and he looked at you in confusion.

'Dean, don't!'

'Why not? He took your memories away, Y/N!'

'I asked for that!' You begged, strength returning to you now that you were healed and you pushed back against him. 'And he didn't do anything wrong to me. He helped! Dean, please!' He struggled, and you gave him a hard shove. 'He's my friend!'

Dean paused, stumbling back from your push, his eyes wide and gun slack in his hand as Crowley watched the scene unfold. 'He's a demon, Y/N. Hunters don't make friends with demons.'

'Yeah? Demons don't normally help. But Crowley has. No motive.' You were lying, but Dean didn't need to know about the depth of Crowley's feelings for you. No one else needed to know that. 'He knows who sent the demons to kill me and he's dealing with it. He healed me.' You held out your now uninjured arm. 'See?' Dean's eyes dropped to your smooth skin, before flicking back up to Crowley. 'Please, Dean.' Your final words were quietly spoken, and you kept your hands up, ready to stand between them.

'Listen to the girl, Squirrel. I don't mean her any harm.' Crowley kept his distance, and Dean scowled at him. He took the hint, bowing his head slightly. 'You know how to contact me if you need me, Y/N.' You nodded, looking back at him, hoping he could see you were grateful for his help. You knew it wasn't his fault; it was just convincing Dean of that.

When Crowley had disappeared, Dean's body relaxed and he looked down at you in confusion. 'You're making _friends_ with that douchebag, Y/N? What the hell?'

'Lot happened when I was on my own, Dean. I struggled. A lot. And I...I don't exactly have many people.' You trudged past him, back into the cabin, Dean following behind. He dropped his gun to the table, watching as you moved towards the couch, throwing yourself down.

'What about Jess?'

'I haven't spoken to her in months. Not since she...not since before I forgot.' You sighed, leaning forward to rub at your eyes with the palms of your hands. 'I'll call her, let her know I'm okay.' Dean nodded, crossing the distance between you to sit at the opposite end of the couch.

'Why did you do it?' He asked, quietly, not looking at you. 'Give away your memories? I know we had some rough times but....it wasn't all bad.'

'I couldn't cope with any of it, Dean. I know what the djinn did wasn't real, but...what I felt was. I was happy. We were in love, and we were having a...a...' You couldn't say it, the word too thick and hard in your throat, like a lump you'd never get rid of. 'I lost all that when I woke up. And it's more clear to me than ever that it's something I'll never have.' You took a chance, looking over at him to see shining green eyes focused on you. 'We did have happy times, before that. But it was all mixed in with the bad. Watching you leave. Watching you die. Watching you suffer. I couldn't deal with it.' Your voice dropped to a whisper. 'It was easier to forget, and I'm a coward.'

Dean's hand took hold of yours, squeezing gently. 'You're not a coward.' He shifted, moving closer to you on the seat, his thigh pressing against yours. 'You were scared and hurt and...I shouldn't have walked away in the first place.' He pulled you to him, his lips warm against your temple. 'I should have stayed, should have realised what you'd lost – the chance I'd lost.' The dam broke and you collapsed into him, tears falling freely from your eyes as he held you close.

'I'm so sorry, Dean.' You sobbed, clinging to him, your chest heaving with hard breaths as he nodded, kissing your forehead.

'I'm sorry too.' He replied, lifting your tear stained face to meet his eyes. 'And I'm not gonna walk away again.' His thumb traced your bottom lip. 'Whenever I think back...you're my happiness, Y/N. You always have been. I've just been too stupid to see it.' You stared, the tears ebbing away as his face dropped closer to yours.

'Dean -' You whispered, unsure of where this would go. Things already hurt so much, but his words made you warm. There wasn't any doubt in your mind that you'd been in love with Dean Winchester for as long as you'd known him; even when you hadn't, when you'd forgotten him, you'd been drawn to him.

'Sssh.' He pressed his lips to yours. 'Can we not? I missed you.'

'I missed you too.' You whispered against his mouth, his arms drawing you into his larger body, his tongue pressing for entrance to your mouth. You granted it, and clung to him, desperate to feel something that didn't hurt.

The kiss went on, and you gasped as his fingers wound around your breast, scraping at the already hard nipple through the thin shirt you were wearing. It suddenly dawned on you just how little clothing you were wearing, but before you could think further into it, Dean's arms were scooping you from the couch, carrying you towards the bedroom. The logical part of you knew you should stop him, but it had been so long since you'd felt anything remotely good that you held back, keeping your arms wrapped around his neck, breathing in the unique scent of him.

The bedsheets were still in disarray from when you'd woken up, and Dean laid you down gently as if you were still injured. His lips found yours quickly, and his hands worked off his overshirt as he kissed you, his boots finding a spot across the room as he kicked them off. You moaned, the warmth of his body fusing into yours, and your hands pulled at his belt.

'Someone's a little eager.' He muttered, a smile on his face as you watched him through heavy lashes, arousal pumping adrenaline through your veins. You nodded, and he slid his pants down his legs, leaving him in only his boxers and socks, his t-shirt dropped to the floor by the bed. He climbed over you, pulling you flush against his body, kissing you again. 'I missed you, so much.' He mumbled, his fingers pushing the shirt on your upper half up, seeking out your breasts, palming them with a soft touch. You moaned against him, feeling the hardness of his cock through his underwear, before throwing a leg over his to find some friction at your core.

His name left your lips like a prayer, and he thrust against you, his hands grasping at your flesh with a greedy desperation, and you shimmied out of your shorts, unwilling to be separated from him any longer. His boxers went with them, and he rolled you over onto him, looking up at you with worshipful green eyes as you ground down on his length.

'Gotta taste you, baby.' Dean's hands grabbing your hips, pulling you up his body until you were straddling his face. He didn't leave it half a second before his tongue was running along your slit, thrusting into you like a man starved. You cried out, reaching forward to find the headboard, clinging to it as Dean pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers dug into your hips, leaving red marks in their wake as he continued his oral assault on your flesh, his eyes closed in decadence as he moaned against you.

'Dean, I'm gonna...I'm -' Words became pants as he nodded, dragging his tongue from inside you to your clit, providing that last shove over the precipice, and you came undone over him, your orgasm flooding his mouth as he grunted in approval. Your hips rolled over his chin as you finished, his hands moving from your legs to your torso, practically holding you up as he licked you clean. When he was done, he pulled you down, letting you rest on his body as you tried to catch your breath.

'Definitely missed that.' He whispered, a small chuckle following it. 'The way you taste is divine. Like every kind of pie.' You blushed, looking up at him from his chest, your fingers rubbing a pattern on his pectoral muscle. His hips arched up a little as you dragged your nail across his sensitive nipple. 'Fuck.' His drawn out curse sent fresh jolts of arousal to your core, and you slid down his body a little further, feeling his cock bump against your ass.

You kissed a path down his abdomen as you rutted against his length, letting his tip rest at your entrance, teasing him and enjoying every second of bliss that crossed his face. Slowly, you let him push inside, an inch at a time, the low groan rumbling through his chest to echo around the room almost sinful in nature.

'Dean...' You mewled, pushing yourself completely up, relishing the feel of his full length buried in your body, his hands traversing your skin like he was mapping you to memory, something he'd done a thousand times before. Everything felt so right, so perfect, the way he fit into you, stretched you just enough to push your limits, his body moulding to your contours like you were made for him.

'I know baby, I got you.' His voice was thick with arousal as he pulled you up off of him, before lowering you back down slowly, both of you moaning in tandem at the slow pace, your bodies rolling together in an age old dance you'd both missed. His cock moved through your slick folds, hitting all the right spots, and for one moment it was like you'd never been apart.

Dean's arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close against him, your breasts hard against his chest, his lips seeking yours. He kept the movement going, his thrusts hard but still slow, dragging every ounce of pleasure from your muscles. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the stirrings of a second orgasm, his hands everywhere all at once, pressing every button he knew intimately. With a small cry, you poured everything into him, desperate kisses trying to convey exactly how you felt.

Because you wouldn't tell him otherwise.

As your orgasm peaked, Dean rolled, pinning you underneath his strong body, and you opened your eyes again, trailing your hands over his skin, taking note of the scars that weren't there the last time you saw him. There was a new one just under his chin, and three small nicks just to the right of his anti-possession tattoo. He groaned as you held onto him, your fingers running through the hairs at the back of his neck, the way he'd always liked.

'I missed you.' You whispered, and he smiled, ducking his head to kiss you again, his tongue pressing against yours as he thrust into you once more. His strong legs spread yours wide, and you cried out into his mouth as he hit that extra sweet spot inside you, making you shudder around him, your walls fluttering in response to the friction his length caused. His arms held his body off of yours slightly, but kept close enough for him to enjoy the feel of your skin against his.

'Want you to come for me again, sweetheart.' He muttered, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jaw, down to your collarbone, using his teeth to scrape against your skin lightly. 'Wanna feel you squeeze my cock with that pretty pussy of yours.'

Your mouth opened in a silent gasp as Dean bit down, leaving teethmarks on your skin, just below your pulse point, and your nails scratched across his back, making him hiss and arch up into you, giving a particularly hard thrust, which prompted him to pick up a harder, faster rhythm. Feeling his cock pulse inside you, you knew he was close, and he was determined to make you come for him again.

His hand slid between your sweat-covered bodies, seeking out your clitoris to spur you on further, and with a keening wail, you came hard, tightening around him, bringing him with you over the edge into bliss. Warmth spread through your belly as he fucked you through his climax, his spendings filling you, spilling out of you as he kept moving, coating your thighs and his with your combined juices.

When he stopped, he was panting, and he held you close, reluctant to leave your embrace, his lips still worshipping yours as his hips twitched with the last lingering sensations of his peak, and you savoured each second, the simple taste of him on your lips.

Eventually, you parted, still remaining close. Dean seemed uncaring of the stickiness left behind from your lovemaking, and you didn't want to wipe away the evidence. You curled into his side, one arm tucked underneath you and the other across his hip, your head in the crook of his arm as he leant his head on yours and kissed your hair. 'I missed you too.' His voice was hoarse, and you smiled, closing your eyes in the warmth of his hold, feeling him move to pull the covers over you both.

Right there, you fell asleep, ignoring all thoughts of the morning, and what it would bring.

*****

The sun broke through the windows and woke you before Dean did. At some point during the night, you'd pulled away, curling onto your side with him behind you, his hand laying on your side. You turned, sitting up and moving his hand gently, worried you would wake him. He shifted, a smile on his sleeping face as he turned.

You were torn for a moment. Last night, you'd felt more from Dean than you had in the last two years. You'd been alive.

But it couldn't last. One of you would break, one of you would die, or one of you would leave. Best to keep it as a pleasant memory and move on whilst it wouldn't hurt too much.

Amazing how easy you could lie to yourself when you needed to.

Slipping from the room, you located your duffel, dressing quickly. Sam was snoring on the couch, a blanket half over his large frame, and you smiled, knowing he'd be there for Dean no matter what. Dean always worried about you getting hurt from being with him, but you knew you'd find trouble wherever you went. It would be best if he didn't have to deal with your problems at well as his.

_You're deluded. You're being an idjit._

Funny how your inner monologue sounded like your mother. You knew, deep down, you'd never be happy without Dean. But you also knew that happiness came at a price, and you weren't prepared to watch him die again.

Clean cuts.

Clean break.

You left the cabin, heading out to your truck with your bag of possessions in your hand. Once you were on the road again, you'd feel better about this. You could put your regrets behind you. You remembered everything, and this time it was _you_ in control.

Before you climbed into the truck, you dropped your phone to the stone floor, stamping on it with your heavy work boots. The screen cracked, and with one more hefty stomp, the phone was useless. You'd pick up a new one in the next state.

Dean would understand. He'd get it, eventually. He had much bigger problems than a woman. You'd be safe, and he'd be safe, and maybe one day, you'd be able to be more. Maybe.

He'd understand.

Turning the engine on, you drove off, just as Dean's eyes opened to an empty bed, and the sound of the truck pulling away from the cabin. He sat up, and a note fell to the floor from the bed, catching his eye. He picked it up, scanning the contents, panic and fear on his face. Discarding it, he grabbed a pair of sweats, almost falling over his haste to get out the door. His frantic shouting of your name caused Sam to fall off the couch, confusion on his face as he saw his brother bolt out the door, screaming for you.

When he followed, he found Dean on his knees in the dusty tracks of the truck, staring at an empty road.

You'd gone again.

 


	9. Part Nine

_January 2013_

You picked at the chips on your plate, disregarding the ketchup that you'd put on the side. It was one of those things where you thought you'd fancied it, but you really hadn't. With a sigh, you looked across the dinner, just as a tall man walked in with a dark haired woman, laughing loudly.

They looked happy.

Your eyes dropped back to the plate, suddenly not hungry any more as your thoughts drifted elsewhere. You didn't know where Dean was. You knew they'd stopped the Leviathans, ended all that, despite the few drifters you'd taken out. The world seemed to have stopped trying to off itself for the time being.

There wasn't any good reason for not contacting Dean, aside from the fear that he might hate you after everything. He'd never tried to find you either, and you weren't sure whether to be grateful for that or not. The note you'd left was short and to the point, explaining that this happiness couldn't last and it was better to go out whilst it was on a high.

Maybe he'd understood and agreed.

Or maybe he was dead.

No, you'd have heard if that had happened, right? Not that you really saw anyone. You'd met up with Jess shortly after leaving Dean, and she'd chewed your ass out about running away again. But she'd promised not to call him, and you stayed with her for a couple of weeks, taking down a werewolf pack in Colorado, before going your separate ways. From what you'd heard, she'd taken a trip to Canada to help out an old friend with a wendigo that was making buffets from tourists.

Continuing to pick at your food, you contemplated leaving. The job in town was finished, just a simple salt and burn, and you hadn't found anything else nearby, so staying wasn't really an option. As you put down the chip you weren't going to eat, a familiar voice called your name.

Looking up, you saw Sam's hazel eyes burning into yours and immediately you went on alert, wondering where Dean was. The younger Winchester picked up on it, sadness washing over him as you noticed the same brunette you'd noticed before. He was obviously with her. 'He's not here.' He said quietly, as the unknown woman squeezed his arm in reassurance.

'I'll go get some coffee.' She whispered, kissing him on the cheek, and he watched her go, something in his eyes that you'd never seen before.

'Sam.' You started, unsure of where to start. 'Where's -'

Sam sighed heavily, slipping into the booth opposite you. 'Dean died. He...he died stopping the Leviathans. Disappeared completely, along with Cas.'

'And you? Is she a -' He shook his head. 'Does she even know?'

'No.' He confirmed, looking over his shoulder at her. 'I'm out.'

You blinked, sitting back a little. 'Dean died and you just -'

'We promised to not look for each other any more.' Sam said, holding his hands on the table top. 'And Amelia was...she wasn't planned. But I'm happy. With her. More than I have been since -'

 _Since Jess died_. He didn't need to say it, and you reached over, touching his hands. You felt sadness tighten your chest to an almost painful point, knowing that Dean was gone, but you knew he would have been happy going out fighting. It was what he'd always thought anything.

'How have you been?' He asked, and you knew the real question there. Were you still hunting?

'Good. Just finished a job in town. Heading out tonight.'

Sam nodded, just as Amelia came back over with two coffee, sitting as close to Sam as she could. You smiled a little to yourself, knowing what she was doing, but so not interested. _Wrong brother, sweetie_. You let the smile widen, taking them both in. 'You look happy, Sam. I'm glad.'

'I'm Amelia.' She offered her hand, still not trusting, and you took it, shaking firmly.

'Y/N.'

'How do you two know each other?' She asked, polite but suspicious.

Sam dropped his head. 'Y/N used to date my brother.' Amelia's face softened then, and you sniffed, feeling a sharp pain in your chest. 'She was the love of his life.' He smiled sadly, and you felt like scowling at his attempt to rub it in. Clearly he'd never forgiven you for leaving, despite the reasons.

'No, I wasn't.' You said, good naturedly. 'Just ships in the night.'

'Oh right.' She seemed confused, and you took that as your cue to leave.

'I've gotta get on the road. Good seeing you, Sam. Take care.' You grabbed your jacket, dumping a fistful of dollars on the table and walking out without a second look. Halfway across the parking lot, your truck in front of you, Sam's hand closed around your elbow and you whirled on him. 'What?' You snapped, and he dropped his hold on your arm, raising his hands.

'I'm sorry, okay? I didn't -'

'If you tell me you didn't mean that, I will break your nose, Winchester.' You growled, feeling more pissed than anything now. Sam had meant what he said, and now he was trying to retract it. 'Goodbye, Sam.' You turned away again, pulling out your keys.

'He wasn't the same.' His voice stopped you dead, and he kept talking. 'After you left. He didn't know what he'd done wrong. He just...he didn't know how to be happy without you there. He never has known. You were...you were the other half of him, Y/N. And it broke him when you left. He went up against the Leviathan knowing he'd die, and he was perfectly fine with it.' Your breath hitched in your throat. 'You told him once that grabbing happiness where you could was how you survived this life. I guess you couldn't take your own advice. He told me, the last thing he said about you, was that you were _his_ happiness. And without you, he didn't see the point.' The sound of his shoes scuffing in the dirt made you look down. 'I just thought you should know. Dean loved you more than he loved anything else, ever.'

You didn't turn, listening to him walk away as tears fell down your cheeks. You didn't know what else to do then, so you climbed into your truck and left the parking lot, leaving Sam to his new life, and his happiness.

*****

_February 2013_

February found you hunting a lone vamp, taking out teenaged girls in South Dakota. You'd made a point to swing by and say hi to Jody Mills, as you hadn't seen her in years, and she'd insisted you stay with her whilst you worked the case. She was gentle with you, probing about your life but never outright asking anything that would make you bolt.

It seemed like everyone was treating you like spun glass.

When the job was done, and you moved on, Jody made you promise to stay in touch, and you left, heading in a random direction to find another spook or monster to fight. It didn't even matter what it was anymore. You took out various stragglers from the Leviathan's failed campaign, demons were fair game, and vampires were spreading like a nasty disease after being half extinct for so long.

You were burning down an abandoned house in Tucson when Crowley appeared, raising an eyebrow at your pyromaniac behaviour.

'Well, if I'd known you were into burning the place down...' He quipped, making you turn in surprise. 'Miss me?'

You smiled, glad to see him, despite everything. He'd stayed away, but he must have known exactly what had happened in the time you'd been moving. The building continued to burn, casting eerie yellow light over the pair of you. Crowley came closer, placing a hand on your shoulder.

'I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. I've been a mite busy.'

You didn't want to know what he'd been busy with. Being a demon, _and_ the King Of Hell, it wasn't difficult to understand that it wouldn't be organising picnics for girl scouts. 'Well, the Levi's got taken out. I'd imagine you have scheming to do.'

Crowley chuckled. 'You know me too well, my dear. I assume, by now you know about -'

'Dean? Yeah.' Sadness thickened your words in your throat as you continued to stare at the fire, Crowley's hand leaving your shoulder as he stood close to you.

'He's not dead, sweetheart.' You turned, raising an eyebrow at him. 'Far from it. Dean just joined Dick on his one way ticket to Purgatory.'

'What? But Sam -'

Crowley tutted. 'You think that Moose has any idea what happened to big brother when Dick exploded? No.' He scowled. 'In any case, I wasn't about to alert him to that fact, not when he's so busy not being a thorn in my side. Dean is surviving quite well, but I've no way of getting in there. I'm a demon; we don't get a free travel pass because of that. However -' He paused. 'You do. You're human. Purgatory wouldn't be happy about it, but I could get you in there.'

'Why?' You asked, frowning at him. 'Why would you help me get to Dean?'

'Because, as I've mentioned before, I'm quite fond of you. And your tastes, whilst horrifying, run towards the meathead.' He smirked. 'And I know you're hurting. You've been hurting since you hightailed it from the plaid nightmares in Montana. You're not happy without him, Y/N.'

'That's not the point.' You muttered, looking back to the burning building. 'Happiness comes with a price.'

Crowley nodded. 'Most certainly. Everything does. But why not just pay it? Instead of constantly suffering?'

'And this isn't another attempt to curve my interests towards you?' You smiled, and Crowley chuckled, shaking his head. 'I mean, you're being really nice, and no offence, Crowley, but that's unlike you.'

He looked over at the fire, smiling widely. 'It is isn't it?' His dry laugh followed and you knew he was up to something. 'Okay. I have a slight agenda. You've been killing a lot of my demons recently, Y/N. I need you to let up a little on thinning my ranks.'

'Oh right?' You folded your arms, turning your back on the fire. 'So you want me to stop being a hunter?'

'Not at all. Just...avoid the omens a little more.' He locked his eyes with yours. 'I owe you, which is why I'm being so gentile about this. You nearly died because of my stupid mistakes, and I feel the need to repay the debt.' Your eyebrow shot up again, as you tapped your foot. 'And I want the angel. If you can get him out -'

'Wait, Cas is there too?'

'Apparently when Dick explodes -'

'Yeah, yeah, enough with the Dick jokes.' You shook your head. 'I can't just hand Castiel over to you, Crowley. He's...he was my friend. Sort of.'

'Yes, well, he's been on my shit list for a while.' He huffed. 'But I wouldn't worry too much about that stipulation. It's highly unlikely that he'll make it out, with the amount of monsters gunning for his angel mojo in that hellhole.' He rolled his eyes. 'Compared to Purgatory, Hell is an ideal vacation spot.'

You sighed, shaking your head. 'What have I gotta do to get them out?'

'There's a back door of sorts.' Crowley paused. 'In hell.' Your eyes widened.

'You want me to go through a back door in hell?'

'It's no biggie. I'll make sure you get through Hell safely and everything.'

'So why didn't you use this stupid door when you wanted your souls?' It was his turn for his eyes to bulge in surprise, and you smirked. 'Oh, yeah, didn't think I knew about that? I know more than you think, Crowley.'

'Hmm. I should really stop underestimating you.' He chuckled. 'I can't use the door. I'm a demon. Besides, these doors are meant to take humans through. They're safety measures, I guess you could say. Taking a soul out of Purgatory is a lot harder without the vessel to drag it through.' You sighed, looking back at the fire still burning. 'Are you in or out?'

'Fine, I'm in.' You said, scowling. 'But if anything happens, I'm holding you responsible.'

'I've no doubt.' He chuckled. 'Let's go then.'

'Now?'

'No time like the present.'

*****

Hell was not what you expected.

Well, it was, but not at the same time. Despite the rows of cells on the hallway, and the moans of souls being tortured, it was surprisingly _clean_. Crowley muttered in contempt the whole way through, and you frowned at him in confusion.

'You're King of this place. And you don't _like_ it here?'

'No one said you have to like where you rule. It's the power that's important.' He shook his head. 'Although sometimes I miss the simple days.' Turning a corner, you felt a pull in your belly and he pointed towards an unassuming wall. 'That's the way in.'

You pulled your machete from it's holster on your thigh, eyeing the wall warily. 'See you topside, I guess.' Crowley shrugged, and you rolled your eyes, before approaching the wall. You felt a little like Harry Potter, stepping onto platform nine and three quarters, but it probably wasn't going to be anywhere near as exciting.

The first thing you noticed about Purgatory was the chill. It wasn't cold per say, but there was a chill to everything. The sky was bright, but there was no sun, and barely any colours. It was like some nightmarish Stephen King type landscape, like the Langoliers. And boy had you hated that film.

You opened your mouth, preparing to shout for Dean, but you quickly shut it again, deciding against alerting any beasties to your location. You held on tightly to your machete as you skulked through the woods, keeping your senses keen to any approaching threat.

Four hours later, and you were still walking, but less on guard. You hadn't seen anything for hours, be it animal or monster, and you were starting to wonder why you weren't feeling thirsty, or tired, or hungry. You supposed it was something to do with Purgatory itself. The sky was getting darker, despite there being no apparent sun in it, and the woods became a little bit harder to see. Deciding to stop, you spotted a river, and jogged down to it.

Out of nowhere, black goo dropped from the trees, landing on the floor before taking form. Whatever it was became a human-like female, before it's head split open to reveal a row of teeth. You held your weapon up and swung, beheading it swiftly, before taking off along the river.

You ran for ages, wondering if you'd even find your way out of here, unsure of where _here_ was. Crowley was right – hell was a beauty spot compared to this bland landscape. At least there was colour there. Even if it was mostly red and brimstone.

A yell caught your attention, and you kept moving, slowing as you approached what was clearly a fight. Castiel was there, fighting another creature, not a Levi this time, but it had claws and was giving the angel a licking. Dean was across the clearing, with an unknown male in between them. The unknown male turned in Dean's direction, baring his fangs and you spurred into action, skidding down the small hill and sprinting towards the vampire.

'Y/N, wait!' You halted at Dean's yell, your machete almost in the swing. Your arm dropped, and the man with the fangs looked at you curiously. 'He's with us.'

' _With_ us?' You frowned at the green eyed hunter, taking in his filthy, dishevelled appearance and the blood spattered on his face and clothes. 'Wow. And you gave me shit for being friends with Crowley.' Dean shook his head.

'It's different.'

'Yeah, always is.' You turned, looking over at Cas, who'd managed to dispatch his antagonist. 'Hey, Cas.'

'Hello, Y/N. How did you get here?'

'Funnily enough...' You paused, not sure if mentioning your help from Crowley would be of any assistance getting them out of here. 'Doesn't matter. I came to find you.'

Dean looked at you, puzzled, and the vampire chuckled. 'And here's me thinkin' I'm your only hope, Deano.' He offered his hand, and you looked at it warily. 'I'm Benny. And you must be the Y/N he never shuts up about.' Your eyes slid to Dean, who was glaring at the back of Benny's head, and you took the offered hand, shaking it firmly. 'Pretty little thing like you, I'm not surprised he's smitten.'

Your eyebrows raised as you dropped your hand from Benny's, looking over at Dean, who was trying to look anywhere but you. With a smile, you looked around. 'Well, as pleasant as this is, we need to get out of here.'

'And you know where we're going?' Dean asked, finally locked his eyes with yours. You nodded, and he shrugged. 'Hopefully it's the same place Benny was taking us.'

'We still good, brother?' Benny asked, sounding worried, and Dean nodded in his direction.

'Yeah, deal's a deal. Just cos Y/N's decided to save the day.'

You rolled your eyes. 'Shall we?'

*****

You weren't even sure how long it was before you managed to locate the path Crowley had told you about. He'd given you directions, ones that he'd apparently “gotten out of a nice little succubus”, and you'd followed them without question. The whole way, you avoided being alone with Dean, which wasn't difficult. If you weren't running, you were walking, and if you weren't doing either of those, chances were, you were being attacked.

'This is it.' You muttered, bending down to brush your hand over the stone that marked the way. 'Was this the way you were headed?'

'No.' Benny replied. 'I was going a different way. I suppose, any way out is a way out though.' He shrugged, following you down the path, Castiel bringing up the rear with Dean in front. The green eyed hunter looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before matching you pace and walking beside you.

'So.' You looked over at him with an expectant look, wondering what he was going to say. 'You found out about the fight with the big mouths?'

'Yeah. I saw Sam.'

His face brightened. 'He okay?'

'He's not hunting.' You replied. 'He thinks you're dead.'

Dean nodded, but you could see the hurt on his face. 'Good.' He was closing off, and you frowned. 'Good, we promised not to look for each other again. A normal life is good for him.'

'What about when we get out of here?' The other hunter had a look on his face you couldn't distinguish, and he didn't reply. 'If I'd known, I would have told him. But this was kind of a cut and run deal. I thought you were dead until I found out you weren't and I didn't have time to go back...'

'It's okay.' Dean smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. 'When we get out, I guess – I guess I'll go it alone. Wouldn't be the first time.' He nodded. 'Might be good to have my own company for a while. Or, maybe Cas will stick with me.' You looked back over your shoulder, seeing Castiel trudging along in his own little world. Benny smiled at you, and you smiled back, before returning to the conversation.

'What if I stayed? What if I came with you? I mean, we've worked together before and -'

'I don't think it's a good idea.' He replied quietly. 'We don't exactly have a habit of working out.'

You cleared your throat unnecessarily. 'If this is about me getting hurt, I think we've both realised that happens if I'm with you or not.' He chuckled.

'You're a trouble magnet, Y/N.'

'Always have been.' A whistle sounded through the air and you groaned. 'Speaking of.' Two werewolves dropped from the trees, with four more running through the woods towards your small group. The fight started immediately, and despite being outnumbered, three of them were dead within seconds. You briefly wondered what happened to you if you died in this awful place, but the thought was soon driven out by a werewolf with his hands around your neck.

His head disappeared from his shoulders as Dean cut it off, a menacing look on his face. 'You okay?' He asked, and you nodded, catching your breath. Benny and Cas had killed the other two, and the four of you looked at each other.

'We keep moving until we get there, yeah?' Dean asked and you nodded. The conversation was forgotten and for the time being, you thought that might be best.

 


	10. Part Ten

'Is that it?' Dean's voice was quiet behind you, his hand coming up to grip your elbow as you came to a stop, looking up at the shimmering blue portal at the top of the rocky incline. You nodded, and he groaned, turning to face the others. 'Well, we're getting out of here. Can't say I'm unhappy about that.' He smiled and you nodded.

You just wanted to go...well, not home, because you didn't have one. But you wanted out of this soul destroying place. What felt like years trudging through endless wasteland....how long had you even been here? There was no concept of time.

'Benny. Time to saddle up.' Dean called out to his vampire friend, and you stepped away from his touch, ignoring them as they did whatever it was they needed to do to get Benny out safely. 'See you on the other side, brother.'

The portal looked terrifying, and as Dean did his thing, you looked back, catching Castiel's eye. The angel's mouth was set in a thin grimace, and his eyes were practically dead – not the blue you were used to seeing.

Looking back, you'd realise that was when you knew Cas wasn't coming with you – he was choosing to stay in Purgatory and punish himself.

Dean hissed as he pulled his sleeve down, covering the mark on his arm where Benny's spirit writhed under the skin. He came up behind you again, his hand touching your shoulder and you shivered, pulling away, not making eye contact with him. His face fell for a split second before he hardened, and checked over with Cas, missing the hesitation written on the angel's face.

'Let's go home.' He said, his voice gruff as he waited for you to start climbing. You clung to the rocks, finally making it to the top just as three Leviathans landed and went for Cas and Dean. Hanging back, you pushed one big mouth down, watching him leave a black gooey trail down the sharp rocks. Dean beheaded another one, before moving to help Cas, and you watched, not seeing the hidden Levi creeping up behind you.

It's claws slid through your side like butter and you screamed, not hearing Dean's agonised yell of your name. You pitched forward, almost heading down the slope, but warm arms caught you, holding you close. Dean shifted you so he was carrying you, as blood spilled over your clothing onto the rocks below.

'Fuck, she's been -' He looked up, seeing the Levi grinned and licking your blood from his clawed hand. With a vicious snarl, he launched himself forward, only for Cas to throw himself in front of you and Dean, pushing the big mouth backwards. He hit the portal, and exploded into dust, and Dean looked over at the angel in surprise.

'Get her out of here.' Cas grunted, pulling Dean and you past him, concern on his face as he noted your injuries. 'Dean, go!'

Dean shook his head. 'Not without you.'

'Y/N is going to _die_ , you need to move!' You groaned softly, your head rolling back, losing conciousness as bloodloss overtook you, and Dean felt Cas' hands on his back, pushing him straight forward towards the blue entity. 'Go!' He screamed, and Dean turned, losing his footing. He reached out, almost losing hold of you as the portal swallowed him whole, his last call for Cas lost in a screaming abyss.

*****

Crowley sat on the throne, his phone in hand, grinning as he finally beat the top score on Bejewelled. His court had been dismissed, seeing as they were all boring the life out of him, and he was done with any scheming for the day. It was tiring at times, being the King.

His phone pinged, and he sat up straight, reading the message from the acolyte he'd placed where the portal from Purgatory was thought to open on Earth. There was some disturbance in the woods, and the co-ordinates appeared on his screen a few seconds later. Standing from the phone, Crowley focused on the location, and clicked his fingers, swapping out the throne room for darkened woods.

There was a scream from somewhere behind him, and he turned, seeing Dean with you cradled in his arms, holding out a makeshift weapon to two terrified teenagers, the pilfered backpack on his shoulder.

'Please, don't hurt us.' The kids whimpered, but Dean just scowled, before creeping away, keeping his weapon held up. Crowley frowned, moving forward as Dean came down the slope, his concern set on your unconscious form in the hunter's arms. Green eyes noticed him, narrowing in suspicion.

'What the hell are you doing here?' He growled, the weapon now trained in front of him, his grip on you tightening as if he sensed a threat.

Crowley frowned, a little insulted by Dean's behaviour. 'I'm here for her. Been watching the exits from Purgatory, waiting for her.' He moved forward and Dean flinched, still clinging to your body. 'She's injured.'

'No shit.' Dean growled. 'She got caught by a big mouth on the way out of Purgatory. So you're the one who helped her?' Crowley nodded, itching to check you over properly, but Dean was keeping him at a distance. 'Why the hell would you do that?'

'We're friends, Y/N and I.'

'Is that why you took her memories?' Dean scowled, and the demon rolled his eyes in return.

'She asked. I provided. I've never intended her _any_ harm, you berk, so if you'd kindly put down the cro-magnon attitude and let me past, I'll see if I can save her damn life!' His voice was raised and angry, his face flushing red as he glared at the hunter opposite him.

Dean hesitated, before dropping to one knee, keeping the weapon in his hand as he laid you gently on the damp forest floor. Crowley was at your side in a split second, and Dean held back his need to push him away, hating his hands on you. 'She said you were friends.' He said, quietly, watching the demon checking over your injury. 'I didn't think you had friends.'

'Y/N is special, as you and I both know.' Crowley returned, and Dean felt something tighten in his chest. The whole way through Purgatory, he'd watched you, longing to speak to you, but you were so closed off to him – he wondered if he'd ever be able to fix the damage he'd done. 'She is stubborn, and strong, and -' He grimaced. 'I can't heal this.'

'Why not?' Dean demanded.

Crowley pulled his hand from your side, coated in your blood. It seemed so much redder in the real world, compared to where he'd been, and Dean's breath hitched as the coppery smell of his reached his nostrils. 'She's been injured by a Leviathan. He's done something...maybe because it was _there_ and not _here_...I can't fix this.' He looked up. 'Where's the angel?'

'Cas didn't make it.' Dean replied, kneeling over you, checking your pulse. 'She's getting weaker. She lost too much blood.'

'I'll take her to a hospital.' Crowley said, slipping his hands underneath your prone body, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. 'She needs urgent attention.' He turned away, and Dean caught his shoulder, his glare in full force.

'What about me?'

'I can't very well take both of you. I need to focus on her.' Crowley tipped his head towards you, frowning at just how pale you seemed. 'Dean, I will tell you where she is, but if we leave it much longer -'

'Alright, alright.' The hunter rubbed at his arm, knowing he had a bargain to stick to. 'I don't exactly have a phone right now. Look, I gotta head up state.' He looked around. 'Where exactly am I?'

'Just stay here.' Crowley grimaced. 'Try not to kill anyone and I'll be back for you.' He disappeared with you in tow, and Dean clenched his jaw, his fingers flexing around the weapon in his hand.

He really didn't like this.

  
  


When you opened your eyes, it was a split second before you shut them again, groaning in protest against the brightness of the outside world. You knew you'd gotten out of Purgatory, seeing as _nothing_ was that bright there.

'Y/N?' A male voice called your name and you tilted your head to the side, taking the risk of blindness and opening your eyes once more. 'Y/N, you in there?' You nodded, focusing on the voice.

'Sam?'

'Hey.' He smiled, reaching over and taking your hand. Oh god, everything hurt. Your side was agony, pulses of pain throbbing through your entire body and you winced, trying not to move. 'Good to see you with your eyes open.'

'How long?' You coughed, and Sam immediately picked up a glass of water, leaning over to help you take a sip. The action of raising your head made everything hurt more, and you closed your eyes again once you'd swallowed a mouthful of water.

'You've been out about a week. You lost a lot of blood, kiddo.'

'I figured. Leviathan takes a chunk outta your side and you're gonna know it.' You hissed as you tried to shift on the bed, feeling your ass going numb. 'But how long were we in Purgatory? I...time was...'

'Dean was gone about a year. You were gone...well, we saw you in that diner about five months ago.'

You opened your eyes again, frowning a little. 'Where's Amelia?'

'Amelia...that's over.' He kept a straight face but you couldn't cover the shock on yours.

'Sam...you were out. You were done.' Your voice dropped to a whisper. 'You were happy. I saw it. Why the hell did you turn your back on that?'

He shrugged. 'Dean was back. I got the call, headed straight up to the cabin. He wasn't there, and I couldn't get in contact, which is when Crowley decided to pop up and let me know where _you_ were.' Sam's eyes filled with confusion. 'I still haven't figured out how Crowley knew where you were.' He turned as the door opened, your eyes moving past him to the figure in the doorway.

The haunted look from Purgatory was still in his eyes, but he'd healed, and shaved and looked overall, a lot fresher than he had the last time you'd laid eyes on him. His clothes were no longer the filthy rags he'd been in, and he looked at you with an anxious smile.

'Hey, sweetheart. You're awake.'

You nodded, and Sam watched you warily as you tried to push yourself up on the bed. Getting up from his chair, he slipped his long arms around you, helping you into a more comfortable position. 'That better?' He asked, and you smiled.

'It is, thanks Sam.' Allowing yourself to look over at Dean, your smile faded a little. 'You got out.'

'Just about.' Dean grinned, walking around the bed to take the empty seat at the other side. 'You left some of the red stuff behind.'

'Sam told me. But thanks. For not leaving me there.' You laughed nervously. 'Did Benny get out okay?' You missed Sam's frown at the name, but Dean cut in before he could ask any questions, nodding.

'Yeah. All done.'

'Cas?' Silence filled the room, and your heart sank, despite knowing Crowley would want him if he'd gotten through. 'Right. He didn't make it.' You sighed. 'I'll get the rest of the story later.' Your stomach growled loudly and you blushed. 'Apparently I haven't eaten in months. You guys mind grabbing me a burger or something?'

'Of course.' Sam stood up, but Dean didn't move, despite his brother's eyes digging into him across the room. 'Dean?'

'You gonna be okay on your own?' Dean asked, barely moving from the seat as he leant over to you. You nodded, a tight smile on your face, trying to ignore the still painful feelings where it came to the older Winchester. 'Okay. We'll be right back.' He stood up, following his brother with hunched over shoulders, his body language completely closed off.

A sigh left your lips, and you let your eyes land on the bathroom door opposite the bed. 'You can come out now.' The door creaked open, and Crowley leaned around the corner, casual as could be, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

'The moose and squirrel gone?'

'For now. They'll be back though.' You shifted in the bed, grimacing at the pain from your side. 'You know what they're like.'

'Overprotective morons in plaid?' The King Of Hell grinned as he moved around to sit in the chair Sam had occupied. 'You did it though. Got lover boy out.'

'Cas didn't make it.' You let your eyes connect with his, not denying his sarcastic words. 'You pissed about that?'

'From what I've been told, he sacrificed himself to make sure you got out.' Crowley made a face of contemplation. 'I guess I can overlook certain...issues for that. What are your plans now?' You shrugged, looking away. 'Could I not tempt you to return to working for me?'

A smile played across your mouth. 'Never gonna happen, Crowley.'

'Man's gotta try. Although, I think Dean has an inkling of my...true feelings towards you. He was rather overprotective when I offered to prevent you bleeding to death in the woods. May as well have peed on you with all his posturing.'

You sniggered, looking back over. 'Dean and me....it's complicated. You know that.' Another sigh left your lungs and you followed it up with a yawn. 'But me and you, Crowley? Just friends. Be grateful for that. You don't have many.'

'I'm better at making people hate me.' He grinned. 'But I'll be grateful for having one.' He stood up. 'I'll get going before your boys come back. Answer one question for me, Y/N?' You raised your eyes to him, waiting. 'If I offered...one time deal, to give it all up; the throne, the...the everything...for you...'

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. 'Nope. Sorry. My heart's gone somewhere else.'

'Even if you're denying it that happiness?' Crowley's face was a picture of confusion and you laughed, squeezing his fingers.

'Even so. I love you, but it's only ever gonna be platonic.'

He grinned, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles, bending to do so. 'And I've been friend zoned.' He shrugged. 'Take care of yourself, Y/N. Try _not_ to get killed.'

'Well, I'll try.' You smirked, and he rolled his eyes, before turning for the door, reluctantly letting your hand fall to your side. 'See you around, Crowley.' He nodded, slipping out of the room silently.

When the Winchesters came back, you were asleep again.

*****

'So, you're being discharged.' Sam's voice held a note of hope to it, and you closed your eyes for a moment as you packed your bag. You'd allowed yourself one week of rest in the hospital, making sure the injuries were healed. You were always going to carry the scars, but you hoped that you could avoid major injuries for at least a little while.

'Yep. Back on the road. Job needs to be done.' You looked up to meet his hazel eyes. 'You get it, more than anyone.'

'Except Dean.' He prompted, and you looked away again, stuffing another bunch of t=shirts into the duffel.

'Except Dean.' You could feel him hovering behind you, wanting to talk about his brother, but you cleared your throat, zipping the bag up. 'Well, I'm gonna head out. Call me if...' You hesitated, and Sam shook his head. 'What?'

'You're just gonna leave. Again.'

You sighed, the bag dropping back to the bed. 'Sam...this isn't -'

'God, I could knock your heads together, you know that? You had a go at me, Y/N, you told me I was an idiot for giving up the happiness I had. And now you're gonna run away?' Sam shook his head, floppy hair waving furiously. 'You're as bad as each other. I told him he had to talk to you about this and you know what he said?'

'No.' You replied, your voice small.

'It isn't worth it.' Sam scoffed. 'Of all the people, he _knows_ you're worth it a million times over. You're _happy_ together. Or you would be, if either one of you would stop running for five goddamn minutes! You went to another dimension to find him, Y/N! Does that not show you _some_ depth of the feelings you have for him?'

'Dean and me -'

'No.' Sam held his hand up, furious now. 'If I hear either of you...is this to do with Crowley?'

You baulked, paling at his question. 'Why would you think that?'

'Dean thinks he's in love with you.' His eyes narrowed. 'Is there something going on?'

'God, no, Sam, he's a _demon_. We're just friends. If that's the right term. Crowley is...look, I shot him down, alright. Because it's always been your damn brother, and it's always gonna be your damn brother. But we're not, we're just not -'

'Compatible? Connected?' He shook his head again. 'Bullshit.' The expletive made you stop, staring at him in shock. 'I've had to watch you break because he was gone, and I've had to watch him break because you walked away, and you know what? Neither of you can give me a good enough reason as to why you're constantly fucking this up!'

'There are reasons!' You yelled back. 'There are plenty of...reasons!'

'Name one.' He demanded, folding his arms over his chest. 'One good reason _why_ you keep running away from the one man who loves you above anything else in this world.'

'Because...because...' You scrambled for anything that made sense. _Because he loves me. Because love gets you hurt. Except I get hurt all on my own without help. Because together we're....happy? Contented? Sexed up? It's not even like we get distracted. We're a good team._

_Shut up brain, you're supposed to be on my side._

Sam's face lit up in triumph. 'I knew it!'

You scowled. 'Because I love him, and loving him means getting hurt when he dies. Or leaves. Or _anything_!' He froze, and you felt hot, angry tears sliding down your cheeks, not noticing the door handle move as the door opened from the outside. 'Because I'd want everything with him. Marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. Because Dean is the one guy I've loved my entire life, and being with him...being with him would be too much to give up. So I'd rather not have it at all so I didn't lose him!'

Startled green eyes met yours as Dean pushed the door open wide, catching every single word of your tirade. His mouth was open in shock, and Sam looked back, heartbreak written on his face as he saw his brother's face.

'Because if you died, or I died...' You stopped, unable to speak through your tears.

'I already died.' Dean muttered, keeping his eyes locked on yours. 'I died a thousand times. I died every night you weren't there. You got to forget for a while. But I didn't.' He took a few steps forward as Sam pulled back, watching warily. 'I never forgot and I never forgave myself. I never let you go, even if you pulled away. Even if you weren't there...I was always with you.' He was almost within touching distance now, and he moved his hand to cup your cheek, smiling gently when you leant into the touch. The door clicked shut as Sam left, and you let Dean pull you close into his chest. 'You told me once that we had to grab happiness and hold onto it. Maybe what we had wasn't perfect by every other standard, but fuck, Y/N...I've never stopped grabbing on to the happiness I had with you. Why do you think I fought so hard to get out of Purgatory?'

You choked on a sob, raising your face to meet his eyes. 'I just thought you wanted to get back to Sam.'

He nodded. 'Yeah. But I knew I had to get back to you. Because when I was in there, everything was sharp and in focus and....pure. But it wasn't right. Because I didn't have you. Nothing's right when I don't have you.'

You blinked away tears, feeling his thumbs wiping them from your cheeks. 'Dean?' He nodded, his hands cupping your face fully now. 'Take me home?'

He smiled, leaning down to brush a chaste kiss across your lips.

'Baby's outside.'

 


	11. Part Eleven

_Six Months Later_

'Dean!'

You cried out your climax as Dean drove into you once last time, his lips finding yours as you giggled against his fingers tickling your sides. He rolled off of you, pulling you into his side and covering you both in the sheets.

'I hope Sam didn't hear this time.' Dean tucked one hand up underneath his head, the other holding onto your shoulder as you curled around into him, your head on his chest. 'Wouldn't want you getting into more trouble.'

'Sweetheart, I want the whole world to hear you screaming my name.' He smirked, pressing a hard kiss to the top of your head. 'Took long enough to lay claim to you; only right I make sure every one knows it.'

You slapped lightly at his chest, smiling. 'You're a sap, Dean Winchester.'

'I'm your sap.' He pulled his hand out from underneath his head, tilting your chin to his face, kissing you long and deep. 'I'm always gonna be your sap.' You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours, his renewed hardness pressing into your belly.

'Again?' Your question was met with a filthy grin as Dean wormed his way between your thighs, kissing along your chest, his tongue darting out to circle around your nipples, one at a time. 'You're insatiable.'

'Like you're much better.' He chuckled, pulling the sheet out from between you as he held himself up on his elbows. 'Open up for me, baby.' You groaned as you obeyed, feeling his cockhead press against your entrance, and with one thrust, he was inside your wet heat, his lips brushing against yours before sliding against your ear. 'Nowhere I'd rather be.'

Months had passed in a whirlwind of cases of lovemaking, after you and Dean had tumbled from Purgatory. It hadn't taken long after getting out of the hospital for you to fall back between the sheets with the elder Winchester, and Sam had welcomed you back into the family with open arms. The three of you chased jobs across the states, working the bigger case at the same time.

You'd taken hold of your happiness, and in six months, you'd managed to avoid hospitals, clinics and anything larger than a scratch. It was nice not to be hurting yourself every week, and even nicer to have back up in the form of Sam and Dean. Minor arguments about your safety aside, everything was better than you'd expected.

Long talks followed the bouts of sex that Dean always seemed to initiate. You'd talked through the months that you'd dreamt, and the ones that had been real. Both of you had put so many demons to rest on the hunt, and it felt good to put the ones inside to rest.

A knock at the door made you squeal as Dean kept fucking you into the mattress, one hand holding your thigh aloft to drive in at a deeper angle.

'I can hear you guys!' Sam's voice filtered through the door and you pushed as Dean's shoulders, giggling at his growl of discontent. 'We need to get moving on this case, Dean!'

'Give me five minutes!' Dean grunted, not stopping as he relentlessly ploughed into your body, and you clung to him, your orgasm only seconds away. 'Fuck, baby, don't stop that.'

You whimpered. 'Stop what?'

He sucked in a breath. 'Clenching around me. Feels so fucking good.' You nodded, biting your lip to stop from screaming as your climax hit. 'No, no, no, scream baby, scream my name.' You opened your mouth, obeying without question, giving him exactly what he wanted.

Outside, Sam rolled his eyes and stomped off back to his room, knowing Dean would be a lot longer than ten minutes.

*****

Slamming the heel of your hand into the demon's face had hurt a little, but the following crunch had been _oh so satisfying_. Dean was fighting not two metres from you as he flashed a triumphant grin, just as he slid the demon killing knife in between his opponent's ribs, golden light exploding from within him. The demon hit the floor dead, just as you grabbed your demon by the lapels of his jacket and threw him towards the other hunter, his knife out and ready.

As the second body hit the first, both dead, Dean laughed. 'Fuck, it's a rush fighting with you.'

'You've changed your tune.' You replied, folding your arms and raising an eyebrow at him. 'A few months ago, you were all concerned I'd get myself hurt.'

Dean smiled, throwing his arm around your shoulder as he sheathed the demon killing blade inside his jacket. 'Guess I'd forgotten how _well_ you move, sweetheart.' He kissed your temple, holding you close just as Sam caught up. 'You okay, little brother?'

'I'm fine. The two outside were exorcised. Should put a stop to whatever they were up to.'

'I think that calls for a celebratory drink.' Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder. 'My treat.' Sam made a confused but pleased face, and you giggled at them both.

'What's gotten you so happy?' You asked, looking up at the elder Winchester.

He shrugged. 'Got the job done. Got my girl.' He squeezed you a little tighter. 'My brother's here, we're gonna shut the gates of hell...why shouldn't I be happy?'

You couldn't argue with that.

*****

Another town, and another case, just as life had always been. You smiled from your seat in the front of Baby, Dean's hand on your jean clad thigh as he sang along to whatever cassette he'd picked this time. Sam was stretched out on the back seat, sleeping off the whiskey shots from the night before.

'So, nice simple salt and burn.' Dean grinned, squeezing your knee gently. 'Get this done and out the way, and then...'

'Then what?' You asked, leaning on your elbow against the door, admiring the sun as it ran over his smiling face, lighting up his freckles and green eyes.

'I was thinking we could take a little trip. Somewhere without ghosts or werewolves or witches...' Dean's eyebrows were practically dancing. 'Vegas?'

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. 'Vegas, huh? Isn't that yours and Sam's little weekend escape?'

'Well, you're a Winchester.' Dean ran his hand up your thigh, coming closer to where your legs met. 'Or as good as. Seems only right you should come with us.'

Your smile widened, and you opened your mouth to reply, just as Sam snorted and woke up. He yawned, leaning over slightly, grimacing as he saw where his brother's hand was headed.

'Come on, guys. Isn't it bad enough I have to hear it in the motels?' Dean laughed as he returned his hand to your knee, looking over at you again. 'How far out are you?'

'Another fifty miles or so. I was just saying to Y/N – we should go out to Vegas for a weekend. Let our hair down. Well, you two can.' He sniggered. 'Few drinks, classy shows, buffet. It'll be fun.'

Sam nodded, smiling. 'Yeah. Yeah, I'm up for that.'

*****

Of course, once the salt and burn was done, there was another case, and another. Before you knew it, another month had passed, and the mood had soured. Sealing up the gates of hell was taking up time, but despite everything, Dean remained upbeat and constantly making plans.

Vegas was going to happen, he was set on it.

Right now, he was set on christening every room in the newly discovered bunker that the three of you had discovered, courtesy of their grandfather and the Men Of Letters. Whilst Sam had gone out to scope the local area and get supplies, Dean had you bent over the library table, pounding into your from behind.

You panted his name, your fingers curling around the edge of the table, clinging on tight as Dean rammed his full length into you, bruising your thighs. 'Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?' He asked, his breath coming hard and fast. His hands held onto your hips and you struggled to answer, your reply coming in short gasps.

'Yes, Dean, please, fuck, wanna cum.'

'I'm not stopping you.' He watched your body swallow his cock repeatedly, your orgasm overtaking you suddenly as you howled out his name. 'Fuck, baby, sound so good screaming my name.'

'Dean!' You screamed louder for effect, and seconds later, his cock spasmed and filled you up with his cum, his fingers digging into your hips as he kept thrusting until he'd spent every drop. 'Fuck.' You groaned as he pulled out, his spendings dribbling down your thighs.

'Fucking beautiful.' He bent over, biting your ass playfully.

'Sam's gonna be back soon.' You pushed yourself up, reaching for your shirt that had landed over one of the ornate lamps on the table. 'We should probably stop fucking in every room?'

Dean smirked. 'I'm not even halfway through my list!' He picked up his boxer shorts, pulling them on quickly. 'But, seeing as I don't wanna make Sam jealous of the hot chick I'm banging, we'll go christen the most important room in the place.'

You raised an eyebrow as you slipped your shirt over your head. 'And what room would that be?'

'Ours.' He smiled, pulling you into his arms and kissing you firmly. 'Come on. We gotta fight over which side of the bed I'm getting.' You giggled as he swept you off of your feet, carrying you through the hallway to the bedroom you'd settled on.

It was nice to have a place to actually call home.

*****

'Got a case.' You grinned, dropping the paper in front of Sam before letting yourself fall into Dean's lap. His arms wound around you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 'Looks like an interesting one. Up for it?'

'Three dead, one wounded witness – his eyes were cut out?' Sam made a face. 'Not much of a witness. We sure this isn't a psycho killer?'

You shook your head. 'Nope. Keep reader.'

'Oh.' Sam's eyes widened.

Dean sat up a little, still holding onto you. 'What's the “oh”?'

'They all did this to _themselves_.' You grinned, pleased with yourself. 'I love interesting cases. I mean, it's awful and everything, but all we've had is salt and burns recently, or dealing with the trials and...I'm bored.' You pouted as Dean grinned up at you.

'You're sexy when you get all excited.' He growled, pulling you down for a kiss. Sam rolled his eyes.

'Are you two ever gonna put each other down? I mean, I thought this might wear off after a while -' He was smiling as he said it, teasing, and you stuck your tongue out, just as Dean grinned.

'Don't listen to him, baby. He's just jealous.' He pushed you up off of his lap, slapping your ass as you walked away. 'We'll behave, Sammy. Just making up for lost time.'

Sam grinned. 'I think you had that covered when you didn't leave your bedroom for a week.' He stood up, running a hand through his hair, and picking up his empty coffee cup. 'We'll go for the case. See what it is. It's probably a demon. But you're right, we could use some excitement. Seems like the last time we got some was finding this place.'

You blushed, looking over at Dean, remembering exactly what you'd gotten up to on the table Sam had been eating his breakfast at. He smirked at the memory, whilst the younger Winchester remained oblivious. As soon as he left the room, Dean pushed your chair back, spreading your thighs with his large hands.

'Dean!'

'What?' He smiled up at you, before rubbing his thumb along the seam of your jeans. 'Think we've got time for a quickie before we go save people?'

You whined, pushing his hands away. 'We really shouldn't.'

'Oh, but we really should.' He teased, pulling you out of the chair. 'Go wait for me in our room, I'm gonna tell Sam to slow it down for ten. I wanna make sure you're sitting uncomfortably all the way there.' His hand collided with your ass again as you headed off to the bedroom, Dean close on your heels until he reached Sam's room. 'Go on, sweetheart. I'll be in in a second.'

He knocked on Sam's door as you disappeared.

'Sam?'

'I heard.' He grimaced. 'I can stall for the sake of your overactive sex life.'

'No such monster.' Dean grinned. 'Look, once this case is over, I'm gonna...you know...do the thing.' Sam's eyes widened. 'But she doesn't have a clue. I know I've been promising Vegas for ages, but we gotta go, man. As soon as this case is done.'

'I'll pack extra. You still got the ring?'

Dean nodded. 'It's in my duffel. Been in there for weeks.'

Sam grinned. 'She's gonna flip.'

'I know.'

*****

He'd been leaning against the car for ages, watching the shadows of the trees play across the green grass in front of him. Sam was next to him, not saying anything. He didn't really need to; Dean knew he was there if he needed it.

_'Dean, I don't think this is right.' Your voice was strained. 'There's something wrong here.'_

_'We're gonna be fine, baby, just hang on, okay?'_

_'Shit!' Sam's voice echoed through the small hallway. 'Dean, it's a trap!'_

_'Y/N!'_

But he had to move on, right? That was what he'd promised you.

Standing straight, he turned to the Impala, reaching into the front seat, where you'd been sat for months before. It would never have been as long as he would have liked – forever would have been better. His hands closed around the bouquet of white roses he'd picked out, and he stared at them for a moment, before he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder.

'You want me to come with?'

_'I gotta get her out, she's stuck in there!' Dean pushed at the door frantically, pounding his fists against it as his brother joined him. A scream echoed from inside and he only hit the door harder._

'Give me a few minutes.' Dean's reply was quiet, his voice husky. Sam nodded, standing back, watching as his brother stepped off of the concrete pathway and onto the soft grass.

His steps were long and measured, and he felt his knees getting weaker with every step as his eyes focused on his destination. Holding the bouquet up, he pulled one of the roses free from the rest, catching his finger on the thorns, a small droplet of blood making its way down his digit. Dean ignored it – it wasn't the worst he'd suffered.

_The door bent under Dean's kicks and punches, but didn't give way as you screamed inside, the sounds of a fight rumbling around you. You called for him, desperate, and he shouted back, desperate for the door to open._

With a small smile, he bent at his first stop, placing the single rose on the flat ground, before tracing his fingers over the stone and it's weather worn writing. 'Hey, mom.' He could already feel the tears pricking before he stood straight, turning to the second stone, crouching down, before getting to his knees.

'I should have gotten on my knees before you a long time ago, Y/N.' He placed the bouquet down, across the freshly raised earth, reading the name on the stone. It was a simple inscription, just your name and date of birth, followed by the date you'd taken your last breath.

_As the door finally opened, Dean fell inside, landing on his hands and knees, before looking up and seeing you on the floor. Blood trickled from the corner of your mouth as you reached out to him, and he shook his head, scrambling over to you as Sam almost tripped over his brother._

_'Y/N, baby, shit, Sam!' Dean's hands pulled you into his lap, as he took in the deep cuts on your belly, the puncture wounds on your throat. 'No, no, no, it's not, please -'_

_'Dean, she's – she's losing too much blood.' Sam's voice was choked up with tears as he knelt opposite his brother. 'I don't know...I don't know what to do.'_

Too soon. Just like the last time you'd sat in Baby. The last time he'd kissed you. The last time he'd told you he'd loved you.

Except that wasn't the last time.

They were words he'd always struggled with. And you'd been taken from him when he'd gotten to used to saying them. He loved whispering them into your skin as he worshipped your body; he loved letting you hear it close to your ear as he made love to you.

No. He'd never stop saying it.

Somehow you'd hear him.

_'Baby, hold on.' Dean was begging now, tears falling freely from his eyes. His bloodied hands clutched at you._

_You smiled, but your eyes didn't focus on him, and your skin was paling. 'Hold on to it.' Your voice was barely a whisper. 'Promise me. Don't...dont'...'_

_'Please, Y/N, hold on, don't leave me.'_

_'Promise me, Dean.' You were fading quickly, blood leaving your body too quickly as he held you close. 'Promise me you'll keep going, keep fighting.' Your voice got a little stronger as he stroked your face, leaving a sticky smear of blood along your cheek. 'Promise me.'_

_'I can't...'_

_'Please...'_

_He choked on a sob, pressing his forehead to yours, nodding against you. 'I promise, sweetheart. I promise.' His lips found yours, already cold, and he kissed you, keeping his touch soft. 'Y/N, please, baby -'_

_'Dean.' Sam's voice found him in the darkness, but Dean didn't want to open his eyes._

'I love you, Y/N.' His voice caught in his throat, a choke barely holding back to the sob he wanted to allow. He could hear Sam coming up behind him, and he wiped hastily at his face, trying to get rid of the tears almost spilling over.

_'Dean. She's gone.'_

'She would be happy that you'd given her this, Dean.' Sam said quietly, standing behind his brother. 'Y/N was a Winchester – maybe she didn't have the name but...burying her ashes next to Mom...'

Dean stood up, sniffing hard before clearing his throat. 'We should get moving.' He didn't want to leave – every bone in his body wanted to lay down on your grave and never move – but he had to. He'd promised. The family business still needed working, Sam still needed him.

He'd see you again.

One day, he'd see you again.

 


	12. Epilogue

You'd been expecting the knock on the door for a long time. So long that you'd stopped noticing the passage of time. It didn't matter here anyway, seeing as life was over and this was the reward you'd never dreamt of.

It was nice, when you'd tumbled head first through your greatest hits, every memory making you laugh and smile in equal measures. And at the end of it all, your childhood home, just how you remembered it, ready and waiting for you to live out forever inside it's comforting walls.

Ash had found you not long after you'd ended up here, shown you the doorways and how to work them. You'd found your parents in turn, and Ellen and Jo. And it was nice to know every one you'd ever loved was safe and warm.

Except you couldn't know how Dean was faring. You had no idea how things were playing out down on Earth, and no angel would answer your prayers in Heaven.

But you'd known he'd find his way back to you.

So yes, you'd been expecting the knock on the door for a long time, but when it came, you hesitated, unsure of exactly _who_ you would find on the other side. It had no doubt been a long time since you'd died, and Dean might have changed into someone you didn't recognise.

Clenching your fist around the door handle, you took a deep breath, before opening the door to the sunlight outside.

Familiar green eyes met yours, the same smile on his face, even though he looked younger, less worn down than he had when you'd last seen him. But it only took one look into his eyes to see that nothing had changed.

He was still your Dean.

And he was finally here.

'I was starting to think you'd stood me up.' You smiled, folding your arms over your chest and leaning against the door.

'There was some threat that they wouldn't let me in. We've been causing a bit of trouble downstairs.' He smirked, his eyes raking over your body like they'd always used to.

'Sam?' You asked, and he nodded.

'Old age gets you eventually.' His smirk twitched. 'At least I get to be twenty year old me. Fifty year old me? Such an _ass_.' You giggled, standing straight as he stepped closer. 'You...are a sight for sore eyes, baby. I missed you so much.'

'Missed you too.' You whispered, reaching up to loop your arms around his neck. 'I've been waiting for you for so long.'

'I'm here now. Forever.' Dean bent his head to capture your lips briefly before leaning his forehead against yours. 'Never leaving your side again.'

 


End file.
